


Captured Effortlessly

by AlyCalypso



Series: Ain't nobody (loves me better) [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Bullying, Canon Divergence, Coming of Age, Exploration of sexuality, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Homophobic Slurs, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexual Content, Typical Shameless violence, Violence, typical Shameless slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23449363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyCalypso/pseuds/AlyCalypso
Summary: Ian and Mickey met at the baseball field when they were kids and became sort of friends. They grow up and their relationship changes, especially when they start to explore their sexuality.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Ain't nobody (loves me better) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/289622
Comments: 73
Kudos: 200





	1. Little League

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-write of one of my very first fics.
> 
> The other one has been deleted, but if you've already read it, you'll notice that the first chapter stays pretty similar to the original. If you haven't read it, then welcome here ;)
> 
> The fic is already entirely written, but, as I said, I'm re-writing it so I'll post as I work on it. And I have time because, as probably many of you, I am currently under a national lock down, home and unemployed.
> 
> Stay safe out there kids!

Ian liked baseball. He was one of the youngest kids in his Little League team, but that didn’t keep him from being one of the best players. He didn’t have the brains of his brother Lip and, without being terrible at school, he wasn’t exactly good at it, he was average. Compared to Lip, Ian was always average, so athletics were his thing, he was industrious, conscientious and never gave up. When Lip was too lazy for it, saying he only ran when being chased by the cops, Ian enjoyed it, he was good at it, so that became his thing, he claimed it: Fiona was the mom, Lip was the smart one, and Ian was the athletic one, it made sense.

His Little League coach wasn't too bad, but he screamed a lot. Coaching a baseball team with only kids from the South Side of Chicago is no easy matter: some kids very simply didn't like obeying orders, never doing what they were told to do, some kids only came to practice when it pleased them, some kids used strong and dirty words Ian knew for sure Fiona wouldn't allow him to repeat, and some kids did all of the above, like Mickey Milkovich. The Milkoviches didn't have a good reputation in the neighborhood and among all the important life skills Fiona had taught them, one of the lessons that stuck to Ian's mind was “Don't get mix up with the Milkoviches”. One of the oldest kids was in Fiona's grade and she had told her little siblings many times not to interact with them. At first, Ian had asked why, sure their dad was scary, but they were all South Side, not one family was worth less than the other, but Fiona had just repeated not to do it. At six years old, Ian didn’t like to disobey his sister, but, thankfully, Mickey made it easy on him: he was only one year older than the redhead, but he already acted like a teenage thug, cursing, spitting, stealing, even smoking on occasion. Once, Ian had tried to ask him for a pencil in class but had been properly told off, so, ever since, he wasn't really impressed by Mickey and, to be honest, he didn't really care about him, he tried to pay him as little attention as he could, ignoring Mickey’s antics most of the time. Ian just came to Little League to play baseball and have a good time away from his hellish family and the two crying babies Monica had dropped off one after the other, he wasn’t here to make friends or to get himself into more trouble than it was worth. That was, until “The Incident” (as the team later called it).

It was a late spring morning. The weather was becoming warmer and warmer by the minute and Ian had woken up early from a very short and agitated night with Carl waking up every hour to scream like the hungry baby he was. The redhead was tired and couldn't bring his A-game onto the field. Half the team was running around, trying to catch each other more than they were trying to actually catch the ball, and the coach was already seeing red. Unfortunately – for Mickey or maybe for the coach, Ian didn't really know – Mickey had chosen this day to come in late and lazy. Ian watched the Milkovich boy getting more and more angry every time the coach snapped at him (and Mickey had started off on a very angry base as per his usual self). After what felt like an eternity of shouting back and forth, Mickey threw his hat and glove onto the ground and unzipped his pants to piss right there, on first base. It was kind of a majestic gesture, Ian thought – although maybe not in those words – a beautiful “fuck you” to the coach who, evidently, couldn't stand him. And, just like that, Mickey Milkovich was gone, out of the Little League team, and he never came back.

******

Mickey didn't like baseball. He was in the Little League team because his brothers had been enrolled in the team before him and therefore he just followed the family tradition because his dad thought it was a good sport for boys – and also probably because it was the only one available in their neighborhood, but Mickey was short and grumpy, and the coach was a jerk, so he hated baseball. He still went though, because he had learned very quickly in his life to do exactly what his dad wanted him to do, to never talk back to him and to never, _ever_ , go against his decisions. Thankfully, he was also now old enough, based on Milkovich criteria, to go learn a few “useful skills”, so he could skip practice from time to time when his older brother Iggy took him shop-lifting in the neighborhood's nearest convenience stores.

The day Mickey quit the team had already started as a bad day for him: his dad was drunk again and his mom was nowhere to be found. Iggy had taken their little sister Mandy away from their dad’s drunken anger, so Mickey, being the only kid left in the house, had to catch a couple of hits and punches before it was safe enough for him to leave. And then the coach yelled at him for being late. And yelled at him for being distracted. And yelled at him for being slow. And yelled and yelled, always finding a new reason to raise his voice. Mickey didn't say a word, clenching his fists to his sides. He wanted to scream, he wanted to tell the coach he could fuck off, he wanted to punch him in the groin, but he didn’t do any of that, he was better here than at home, no matter how much their coach despised him, so he tried his very best to keep his anger quiet, until he couldn't anymore. He threw his hat and glove – both already more than worn out by his brothers before him – on the dirty grass, and decided that the best thing he could do to express his feelings was to piss on first base. It was probably childish and stupid, but Mickey was only seven after all.

He didn't go back to his house right away after leaving the baseball field, he couldn't confront his dad again so soon, and he knew he would probably have to pretend to go to practice every week until the beginning of summer, but it wasn't such a big deal, there were only a few times left, and his dad had promised that he could quit next year to officially start going with his brothers on every one of their runs, from scams to thefts, and hopefully soon drug deals too. But, for now, Mickey decided to stay far away from his house. He walked around, wandered in the streets for a while, until he found a nice empty stop under the L with forgotten pieces of furniture scattered here and there. He sat on the only good looking spot of the destroyed couch, enjoying a moment of solitude before having to go back to this hellish place he called home.

******

**On** **e** **year later…**

Ian liked to wake up early so he could go train on his own at the baseball field. The school year was coming to an end and the team was getting ready for their last game of the season against their rivals. Ian, as the best player, had a lot a pressure on his shoulders from his coach, so he woke up early every morning to go practice by himself.

The field was empty, as usual, the sun only rising up in the horizon. It had been a year since Mickey had beautifully quit the Little League team but he still liked to come back to the field from times to times, especially since his mom had died. He sat in the dugouts with a pack of beers and a pack of cigarettes. He had started the former recently and was still getting used to the taste, but he liked the habit of it. He opened his first can and lit his first cigarette, enjoying the quiet solitude of being here. A couple of minutes later, a silhouette came into view. Like every single time, the redheaded boy made himself at home on the field without noticing Mickey and, like every single time, he started to practice on his own. And Mickey watched him, appreciating his swift movements and controlled swings. This kid was good.

Ian trained for an hour, very well aware of Mickey's eyes on him. The Milkovich boy was always there when he came to practice, staying half hidden in the dugouts as Ian tried to pretend not to see him. The two boys never talked to each other, and Ian usually left about an hour and a half after he arrived. But, that morning, he decided to call it a day after only an hour and he started to walk in Mickey’s direction.

Why was the redhead walking toward him? Mickey didn't want to talk to him, he didn't want to talk to anybody. He took a couple more drags of his cigarette, trying not to seem nervous. He wasn't nervous. Why would he be nervous? It wasn’t like he had never talked to a person before, and the redheaded boy was just a small person, a kid, probably even younger than him.

Ian stopped right in front of Mickey, hovering over him with his lanky freckled body.

“Hey.” he said with a smile.

Mickey stayed still and silent on his bench without looking up at him. _Rude._

“What are you doing here?” Ian insisted, still hoping for an answer.

Mickey threw away his cigarette. Ian thought he was too young to smoke. He sat next to him.

“You never play baseball anymore.” he said as if he had just noticed that fact.

Mickey sighed. The redhead acted like he wanted to chit-chat with him, and Mickey wasn’t in the mood. He didn't like kids, but this one was especially annoying, opening his mouth again and again. Mickey figured he wasn't going to shut up unless he’d answer him.

“I was kicked off the team for pissing on first base.” he stated with no flourish.

“I remember.” the kid smiled again.

Mickey spat on the ground, looking anywhere but at the redhead's face.

“You heard about that?”

“I was there.” the kid explained. “I was playing second.”

Mickey nodded and lit up another cigarette. He took a few drags before offering it silently to the other boy, waving it in his general direction.

Ian shook his head, refusing the cigarette. He was definitely too young to smoke.

“Why do you come here all the time if you don't play anymore?” he asked again.

“To be alone.” Mickey said, taking a drag of the cigarette Ian had refused.

Ian wasn’t stupid, he knew that meant Mickey wanted him to leave, but he didn't move. He didn't really know if it was to piss Mickey off or just because he felt like talking.

“You don't have any friends?”

Mickey rolled his eyes.

“Why do you care?”

Ian shrugged. Maybe he didn't care.

Mickey was getting really annoyed by now: why wouldn't this kid leave? Couldn’t he take a hint?

“You don't want to know my name?” the kid asked way too eagerly.

“I don't give a shit.”

Mickey was pretty sure the kid was a Gallagher. Those reproduced like rabbits and were incredibly loud. A talkative kid like that could only be Frank's son. Frank Gallagher who couldn't stop ranting and was annoying as fuck, according to his father.

“Ian. Ian Gallagher.” the kid declared proudly with an open hand to shake.

And there it was, Mickey was right. He ignored the hand though, that was just ridiculous.

“And I know you're Mickey Milkovich.” the kid – _Ian_ – added, retracting his hand to rest it on his knee.

“How d'you figure that?”

“I just know.”

Mickey finally turned to fully look at the kid, catching two enormous green eyes. Was he judging his name? Did Mickey looked like a typical Milkovich to him? And what was a typical Milkovich? A drug-dealing thief who started smoking and drinking before even reaching the second digit?

“What that's supposed to mean?” he spatted.

The redhead looked confused.

“Nothing. I just... I just know it's your name.”

“Whatever.” Mickey muttered, throwing the butt of this cigarette on the ground.

He stood up, taking the rest of his beers with him and he just left without saying another word.


	2. Green and blue eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey can't stop thinking about each other. And Ian wants his first kiss.

Lying down on his bed, staring at the new posters Lip had stolen from a magazine last week, Ian couldn’t stop thinking about one and only one thing: how blue Mickey’s eyes were. He had noticed them before Mickey had walked away from him at the dugouts, he had never seen eyes so blue before. Except maybe Mandy's eyes, but she was Mickey's sister so it didn’t count. Mandy was in Ian’s class, and even if Ian had only talked to her for the first time today when the teacher had paired them up for a project, he knew all the boys were “in love” with her. He wasn’t though, or at least he didn’t think he was. He had never been in love (or as in love as a 7-year-old can be). Ian knew when a girl was pretty – and Mandy definitely was – but he didn’t want to kiss her on the mouth or hold her hand like Lip did with all of his girlfriends.

“What are you dreaming about?” the big brother in question asked as he entered their shared bedroom and came to sit on the edge of Ian’s bed.

Ian sat up. He couldn’t possibly say he was dreaming of Mickey Milkovich’s eyes, and even mentioning Mandy’s eyes would be risky considering Fiona’s strict rules regarding this family.

“Girls.” he said simply, not sure if he was really lying. “And kissing.”

“Ah, you got a girlfriend?” Lip beamed.

Ian shook his head vigorously.

“No! Kissing is gross! I don’t want to kiss girls!”

Lip laughed and patted his leg before standing up.

“You’re just too young, you’ll want to do it soon.”

“I’m just one year younger than you!” Ian exclaimed as his brother disappeared up on his bunk bed.

He was tired of Lip always saying he was young or a baby, he wasn’t that young! But maybe he was, indeed, too young for kissing. That could explain some things...

******

Ian's green eyes were so huge and Mickey couldn't stop thinking about them. They were this very specific shade of green, not like creepy apple green or deep emerald green, but more brown-ish/gray-ish green. They were weird. Nobody should have been allowed to have eyes like that, particularly surrounded by that many freckles. This kid looked like an alien, it was freaking Mickey out, especially when he couldn’t stop thinking about his face and his eyes. And, of course, Mandy wouldn't shut up about him, which wasn’t helping Mickey’s problem. His sister had a big annoying crush on the stupid redhead.

She sat on the floor, her back against Mickey's bed, gluing cut out pieces of newspaper – that she had stolen from the neighbors’ porch, obviously – to a big sheet of blank paper for some school project Mickey remembered not doing the year before, and, of course, Mandy had been paired up with Ian for this. The fact that the two of them were in the same class at all was bothering Mickey.

“He is very funny.” Mandy kept rambling. “But I don't think he knows it. He tells jokes sometimes and he says they're from his brother, but I don't care, they're funny. And he's very nice too: he protected me when Teddy Barlow tried to lift up my skirt...”

Mickey wasn't really listening. He caught glimpses here and there of what his sister was saying but he didn’t actually care enough to pay attention, he was way too comfortable lying down on his bed, his lack of sleep from the night before catching up to him… He closed his eyes for just a second, seeing a flash of green eyes, when Mandy woke him up by punching him hard on the shoulder.

“Hey Mick! You're not listening to me!”

Mickey grunted, annoyed and not willing to use real words, he just wanted to sleep.

“So... do you?” Mandy asked.

Mickey looked down at his sister. What was she on about?

“Do you _what_?” he mumbled, rolling on his other side to face the wall.

“Know him!” Mandy almost screamed, her voice way too high-pitched for Mickey’s sensibility. “I told you he's playing baseball with the Little League team, so I was asking if you met him when you played too. Too bad dad thinks baseball isn’t for girls, I would have played to be on his team…”

Mickey closed his eyes again, done with this conversation.

“No.” he lied. “I don’t know him.”

The very next week, Mickey was back at the baseball field early in the morning, sitting in the dugouts as usual. Ian showed up about ten minutes after him and practiced on his own for less than an hour before coming to sit next to Mickey on the bench. He didn’t say a word, he just balanced his legs against the wood, knocking them at regular intervals to create a rhythm he obviously thought was entertaining. Mickey wanted to shove him to the ground for it, but he didn't. Instead he talked first. Yes, him, Mickey Milkovich, started a conversation with someone. It was probably the first time in his life, except maybe for that one or two conversations he had with his mom when he was younger, but that didn’t count.

“How’s the project going?”

He had kept his eyes strategically fixed on the ground and the fascinating dirt under his feet that weren’t quite reaching, but he felt Ian's head turn to look at him.

“What?”

Mickey didn’t move, didn’t switch his gaze.

“The art project.” he sighed. “The one you’re doing with my sister.”

“Oh.” Ian nodded, finally understanding. “It's okay. Your sister is nice, I think we're friends now.”

Mickey didn't say anything to that, but he felt something weird in his stomach. He didn't like the idea of Ian being friends with Mandy. Maybe he was jealous? No. He just wanted to protect his sister, that was all.

“She talks more than you.” Ian noticed.

That was a given, everybody knew Mickey wasn’t a talker, Ian shouldn’t be so proud of himself for discovering that. Mickey stood up. This kid was too annoying.

“I gotta go.” he mumbled, feeling the need to excuse himself before he left Ian here one more time.

******

Ian was sure Fiona wouldn't like the idea of him talking to Mickey Milkovich on a regular basis, she was already not really happy at the idea of him being friends with Mandy now, and she was the best Milkovich there was to the world’s eyes – probably because she was a girl. Yes, she stole sometimes, and cursed too, and she arrived late at school, but she was nice, and Ian didn't have a lot of friends, except for Lip, but that didn't count because Lip was his brother, so he was happy to be friends with Mandy, and Mandy seemed happy to be friends with him. But Ian was also very intrigued by Mickey: under a rough and unwelcoming exterior, this grumpy boy was actually quite interesting, so Ian kept going to the baseball field every morning, even after the season was over, just so he could see and possibly talk to Mickey. At first he kept practicing, keeping up appearances, but soon his practice time became shorter and shorter, until he finally abandoned the pretense and just went to sit next to Mickey on the bench as soon as he arrived (he still told Fiona he was going to the baseball field to play baseball though, she didn’t need to know). They didn't talk much, and when they did, it wasn't about anything interesting, and Mickey was always the first one of them to leave, suddenly, without warning. At first, Ian was always trying to figure out what he had said or done to make Mickey leave, but then he began to understand that it wasn't him, that Mickey would just leave for mysterious reasons that weren’t under Ian’s control. And that was how their whole summer went and how their relationship started: only talking for a few minutes once a week in the dugouts of the deserted baseball field. Sometimes, Mickey came in with bruises, and sometimes he didn’t utter a single word, but Ian knew better than to ask what was going on. He did the same thing when Mandy went dark and silent for a while, Ian knew that the Milkovich home was worse than his, so he never asked, it wasn’t his place and he figured his friends would talk when they decided to, not before and not with the information pried from them.

When school started back again in the fall, Ian and Mickey kept their routine. Ian couldn’t believe it when he came to the baseball field on the first Saturday morning after school was back, and Mickey was there. He had been so sure that their little routine would end with summer, but Mickey was there, silently sitting on the bench as the sun rose in the sky, and Ian couldn’t keep the smile from stretching his lips. When they cross paths with each other in the hallways on the rare days Mickey was at school, he promptly ignored Ian or, worst, shove him away when Ian was even an inch too close but, on Saturday mornings, Mickey talked to him and spent time with him. Ian didn’t tell anyone about his blossoming friendship with Mickey Milkovich, not even Lip (and he told Lip everything), and, soon enough, it was winter and the boys were 8 and 9 years old.

******

Ian had had a fight with Lip the day before: Lip had mocked him, calling him a baby because he had never kissed a girl, and, as true as it was – Ian had, indeed, never kissed a girl – he had never wanted to kiss a girl, not even Mandy. Lip didn’t understand that, he kept calling Mandy Ian’s girlfriend. Ian agreed that Mandy was nice and pretty, but she was just his friend, he didn't want to do anything more than to simply talk to her, laugh with her, and play with her. Ian was not a baby, and Lip was just an idiot anyway.

Ian arrived at the dugouts in a foul mood, kicking several rocks on his way there and mumbling to himself about Lip’s stupidity. Mickey was already there, sitting on the bench wrapped up in a very heavy coat and scarf in a desperate attempt to fight the lowest temperatures of Chicago’s freezing winters. Ian sat silently next to him, still brooding, his eyes fixed on his worn out gloves.

Quietly observing the redhead’s grumpy behavior, Mickey finished his cigarette – he thought he actually liked it now, plus it was keeping him warm in that weather – before turning to look at his friend. Was Ian really his friend now? Maybe... Who knows what friendship is anyway?

“You okay?” he asked, trying not to sound too concerned.

Ian nodded, muttering a few words under his breath. Mickey decided to understand “I’m fine” and shrugged his shoulders.

“Okay.”

And that was it, that was how most of their conversations went, but it was okay, it was good sometimes not to talk and yet still enjoy being with someone. Mickey liked this kind of friendship. This time though, Ian suddenly raised his head and set his huge green eyes on Mickey.

“Have you ever kissed a girl?”

Ian wasn't sure why he had asked the question. Maybe because Mickey was older, maybe because he was hoping Mickey would tell him it was not worth it. Or maybe, maybe he would tell him he had never done it either. Ian didn't really know which option he would like best.

Mickey felt himself blush slightly. Had he ever kissed a girl? Why would the kid ask him that? It was a stupid and very personal question! Why did it matter if he had ever kissed a girl or not?

“It's a stupid question.” he stated.

“So you did it?” Ian pushed.

“None of your business.”

Ian let the shortest of silences pass, as if he was assessing Mickey’s sincerity.

“How was it?” he finally asked.

Mickey tried to avoid those green eyes glaring at him. No, he had never kissed a girl. He had never met a girl who wanted to kiss him. He had never met anybody who wanted to kiss him. He wasn't sure he wanted to be kissed anyway, or to kiss. His lack of answer made Ian sigh and drop his head to look down at his gloves again.

“I never kissed a girl.” the redhead mumbled quietly.

Mickey wasn't really surprised, Ian was still a kid after all, he had all the time in the world to kiss a girl, but it’s what the redhead added next that surprised him.

“I don't think I want to kiss a girl.”

Mickey tried to laugh, if only to mask the discomfort he was feeling at the all too familiar confession.

“What? You rather kiss a donkey?” he snorted, sounding fake even to his own ears.

Ian looked up at him again with these puppy eyes he had sometimes, and Mickey understood. He understood stuff he didn't want to understand.

Ian was looking at Mickey, not saying anything. The idea had crossed his mind once or twice, but he wasn't sure if it was real or not. When he thought about someone he could kiss or would like to kiss, blue eyes kept popping into his brain, and he knew the eyes weren’t Mandy's. This was another thing he hadn’t told Lip. And he didn't want to ask Mickey directly, he was too afraid to loose this fragile friendship they had created, but, right now, he was hoping Mickey would understand by himself. And, more than that, he was hoping Mickey wouldn't run away.

Blue eyes looked into green eyes. Mickey liked Ian, even if he didn't like to admit it, and, sure, yes, he had thought about kissing him, but only for a second, and he didn't know if it was a good idea to actually do it. But when those puppy eyes landed on him, he knew he was going to do it. So he did it. He leaned closer to the face covered in freckles that haunted his dreams and put his lips on Ian's. But only for a second. And then he ran away.


	3. I kissed a boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything went wrong after the kiss.
> 
> As Ian and Mickey grow up, they start to experiment and discover their sexuality.

Ian watched Mickey disappear after their kiss, he watched him run away without looking back and he knew he had made a terrible mistake bringing that subject up. After waiting for almost half an hour in the cold and being certain Mickey wouldn’t come back, it was Ian’s turn to leave. He walked home, hands deep in his pockets, his respiration forming little clouds of fog due to the low temperatures. Once in the comfort of his house, he sat on the couch and spent the rest of his day watching TV. He still wasn’t talking to Lip and Fiona sat them both down at the kitchen table that night, telling them they had to make up because they were siblings and could only count on each other in this world. Ian decided to be friends with his brother again, but he refused to tell him he had kissed Mickey, he would rather be called a baby.

The next day at school, he did tell Mandy though. He didn’t tell her he had kissed _a boy_ – because Ian was maybe only eight years old but he wasn’t stupid, he knew telling people he liked kissing boys better than kissing girls wouldn’t end well for him – but he did tell her that he’d had his first kiss. Mandy said that she hadn’t liked any of the kisses she had shared with other boys, Ian replied he had liked that one kiss. Mandy asked if she could kiss him, Ian said yes. Mandy kissed Ian, Ian kissed Mandy. Mandy liked it, Ian did not, but he didn’t tell her that.

It took another week for Ian to confirm something else he was sure of: that he had lost Mickey. When he arrived at the dugouts for their usual hang, Mickey wasn’t already there like he always was and he never came. He wasn’t there the week after that either, or the week after that, or the week after that. Weeks came and went and Ian started to lose hope he would ever see Mickey again, but he kept going to the baseball field, just in case, waiting alone for an hour on his wooden bench while nothing happened. He didn’t want to lose Mickey so he persisted, but a part of him knew it was already too late. He caught glimpses of Mickey when he went to the Milkovich house to see Mandy, but he knew that Mickey avoided him. So he took the hint, and, by the next summer, their little meetings at the baseball field once a week in the early morning was only a memory. Ian moved on, he made other friends, he started hanging out with Mandy even more, and he accepted the fact that he would never be friends with Mickey Milkovich, no matter how much he liked the boy.

******

Mickey Milkovich didn’t have friends. That was a fact, he never had friends and he would never have any. He had brothers with whom he went around the neighborhood terrorizing people and collecting money and, even if they weren’t close, it was the strongest relationship he ever had. He thought about Ian sometimes, the talkative little redheaded kid with too many freckles, and about what could have been a real friendship, but then it always led him to think about _the kiss_ and it freaked him out. After he had ran away that day, Mickey had gone to Heather Bailey’s house – who everybody knew was loose and easy – and had asked her to kiss him. She did it without complaining, of course, but asked for a packet of gum in exchange. Mickey provided the goods and finally got the chance to kiss a girl. It was disappointing to say the least, not like what he had felt when he had kissed Ian, but he still decided that, from now on, he would only kiss girls and never talk to Ian Gallagher ever again.

So he followed his own rules dutifully for the rest of the school year, avoiding the dugouts even though it was probably his favorite place in the world, and leaving in the opposite direction every time a redhead came into sight, whether it be at school or at his house where his annoying little sister apparently invited Ian more and more often. When summer arrived again, Mickey realized it was easier and easier to kiss girls and to distance himself from Ian, he barely thought about him anymore, so he kept doing it until it became his new normal.

When Mickey turned twelve, his brothers decided it was time for him to watch his first porn, so they stole the dirtiest movie they could find, waited for their dad to go to the Alibi Room for the day, sent Mandy away for a while – she probably went to the Gallagher house, Mickey couldn’t help but think – and they sat down on the couch with a huge bottle of lube and a box of tissues. Mickey was perfectly conscious it was a weird set-up and probably not normal in other families, but he knew it was a Milkovich ritual and each and everyone of his brothers and cousins had gone through it before him, so he didn’t complain and pretended to be happy to finally be introduced to the wonderful world of porn – even if he would have rather done it alone in his room with a movie of his own choice. And really, he didn’t care for the movie his brothers had picked: the woman’s boobs were too big to be real and the cameraman seemed to only follow her. Mickey tried his best to focus on what was happening on screen, but instead, his thoughts drifted to Mandy who was so lucky to be at the Gallagher house at the moment, so lucky to be talking to Ian, laughing with him, so lucky to have a perfect view of those too many freckles and those big, beautiful green eyes… Mickey stood up suddenly when he realized where his mind had gone. His brothers laughed when they saw that his pants were now too tight for what was happening in them.

“Calm down little bro.” Colin said. “It's normal to be hard, so sit the fuck back down and use the tissues.”

Mickey hesitated, he was wildly uncomfortable and didn’t want to let his brothers know what had actually made him hard. He sat cautiously back down on the edge of the couch and he tried his best to focus on the movie. He started following his brothers’ lead and got his hand busy, but he noticed way too soon that the actress (who was way too loud by the way) also had green eyes and that didn’t help him concentrate on the movie.

When Mandy came back home later that day, Mickey was hiding in his room, trying to forget what had happened in his mind when he had watched the movie, it was way too humiliating. He heard the door of Mandy’s bedroom open and shut, and he got up, almost against his own will. His sister was lying down on her stomach in the middle of her bed, reading a magazine, when he barged in her bedroom without knocking.

“Where have you been?” he demanded to know.

Mandy looked up at him, unimpressed, before looking back down at her magazine.

“You guys kicked me out. I was at Ian's.”

Mickey felt a little twitch in his stomach. Why did he ask that question when he already knew the answer if not only to hear Ian’s name being spoken out loud?

“Is he your boyfriend or something?” he asked, staring at a poster above Mandy’s head in an effort to appear nonchalant.

“Why do you care?” Mandy spat back.

“I don't.”

“So don't ask.”

Mickey sighed loudly. He hated having a little sister sometimes.

“I just want to know if I'll have to kick his ass some time soon.” he lied – he would probably never kick Ian’s ass.

Mandy rolled her eyes.

“Yes, he is my boyfriend.” she groaned. “And no, you won't have to kick his ass. Now, get out!”

Mickey obeyed her orders and went back to his own bedroom, leaning his head against the door after closing it. Yep, he definitely hated having a little sister.

******

Ian wasn't playing baseball in the Little League team anymore, it took too much time out of the week and Fiona needed all hands on deck to take care of the little ones when she was at work in the evenings. That combined with the disappearance of Mickey out of his life, led to him not going back to the dugouts in almost two years but, that morning, he had needed to escape the insanity that was his house with Frank setting up camp in the living room, high on some new drugs and with a bunch of friends in tow. Ian wanted to be alone, and the dugouts were the best place he knew to do that. Unfortunately, somebody was already sitting on the bench when he arrived: a familiar figure, smoking a cigarette and nursing a can of beer. Ian almost turned around and left but Mickey must have had heard him approach because he looked up at him and Ian couldn’t possibly leave anymore, so he made his way to the bench and carefully sat down as far away from Mickey as possible.

They sat in silence for a very long time, enough time for Mickey to finish his beer and start another one, before a word was finally spoken, and it came out of Mickey's mouth.

“So, I heard you do like to kiss girls.” he said with a hint of something in his tone that Ian couldn’t quite place.

“What are you talking about?”

Mickey hadn't talked to him in two years and that was the first thing he thought of saying? Ian was very confused about what was going on.

“I heard you're Mandy's boyfriend now.” Mickey developed, sipping some of his beer.

Oh yeah, right. Ian had never said anything to Mandy about not liking to kiss girls, but she had figured it out on her own soon enough, and she had suggested they’d be fake girlfriend and boyfriend so that the other boys would stop bothering her and so that, at the same time, nobody could find out about Ian’s “preferences”. Ian had thought it was a good idea, he liked Mandy well enough to hold her hand in public and hang out with her all the time, she would make a great fake girlfriend, so he accepted. But, at that very moment, he didn't say any of that out loud to Mickey, although he wasn’t really sure why...

“If I tell you I am her boyfriend.” he wondered. “Are you going to kick my ass?”

“Only if you hurt her.” Mickey shrugged.

_Fair enough_ , Ian thought, and that was the end of that. They didn't talk anymore that morning, but the silence that settled between them wasn't what it used to be, it was uncomfortable now, so Ian couldn’t blame him when Mickey left.

That night, Ian dreamed about Mickey, about blue eyes, and about a certain kiss. It had been months since the last time that happened, usually these days, when he dreamed about boys, it was mostly about Justin Timberlake, he very rarely dreamed about Mickey. When he woke up, his pants were kind of wet, and Lip told him he should learn to jerk off instead of letting his dirty dreams do all the work. Ian flipped him off and locked himself inside the bathroom, enjoying the privacy and the warmth of the shower to explore his body and let his mind wander to gratifying places.

******

It had taken Mickey all of seven days to decide whether or not he wanted to go back to the baseball field the following week. Somehow, he knew Ian would be there, waiting for him, ready for them to start back whatever friendship they used to have, and Mickey wasn’t sure he wanted that. After a lot of back and forth in his own brain, and a lot of Mandy talking his ears off about her boyfriend, Mickey decided that maybe being friends with Ian wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.

When he arrived, Ian sat next to Mickey, like old times, and Mickey ignored the little happiness dance his guts did inside of his body. He took a long drag of his cigarette and saw Ian wave his fingers toward him. Mickey raised his eyebrows, silently questioning when the redhead had started smoking.

“Sometimes Lip lets me take a drag of his cigarette.” Ian simply explained and Mickey handed him the stick.

Ian took a slightly too long drag and started coughing, initiating a laugh from Mickey, who took his cigarette back.

“You need to practice more, kid, that’s just ridiculous.”

It made Ian smile this giant grin that reached all the way to his eyes, and Mickey’s guts did another flip. He needed to stay distracted, to divert his eyes and keep the conversation going.

“You still play ball?” he asked, pointing at the empty field in front of them.

“No.” Ian shook his head. “Fiona made me stop, she needed help with Debbie and Carl.”

“Fiona’s your sister, right? I think Iggy mentioned her a couple of times, he has a huge crush on her.”

Ian snorted.

“All the boys have a crush on Fiona.”

Mickey hummed, he didn’t know what to add to that and the conversation was edging into dangerous territories… Thankfully, Ian changed the subject for him.

“Can I try one of your beers? Fiona never lets me.”

“Sure.” Mickey nodded, offering a can to the redhead who looked so proud of himself that Mickey didn’t feel guilty for corrupting him.

******

Ian went back home later that day with a huge smile plastered on his face: he was friends with Mickey Milkovich again, the kiss incident was forgotten, and everything was well in the world.


	4. Of video games and super heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mandy makes new friends Ian and Mickey don’t approve of, and the Gallaghers get new stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who have read this fic before, you might have noticed I have changed several things so far, but this chapter is entirely new, I went completely off the rails, so enjoy some exclusive content!

“Don’t, don’t! You’re gonna die! Nooooo, come on!”

Ian threw the controller on the coffee table as Lip celebrated his victory beside him. Their living room was full of new electronics, from three giant flat screen TVs to five stereos and a couple of PlayStations. The family had woken up that morning and gone downstairs to discover all of these new gadgets cluttering their living space. Debbie had asked if it was Christmas, and Fiona had tried to find Frank immediately before the cops showed up to their door for concealing stolen goods. Lip suspected credit card fraud, as a theft of that scale would be too hard to pull off for one drunk man, no matter how smart he was, but Ian just shrugged it away, unimpressed as usual by Frank’s antics. They knew all these things wouldn’t stay in their house for long though, so the boys had been playing video games all morning, enjoying it while it lasted.

“Another game?” Lip asked with the confident smirk of the guy who knew he was going to win again.

“Sure.” Ian agreed, determined to beat his brother at least once.

Just as the game loaded, there was a knock on the door. Both boys turned their heads toward the door in alert.

“Cops?” Lip suggested.

“Maybe.” Ian answered. “But it could also be Mandy, I invited her to come play.”

Lip nodded as Ian walked to the front door and opened it carefully. He breathed a sigh of relief when it was indeed Mandy standing on their porch. And… Mickey?

“Hey.” Ian greeted, opening the door wider. He returned the hug Mandy gave him but his eyes were fixed on Mickey. “What is your brother doing here?”

“I mentioned video games so he wanted to come.” Mandy explained matter-of-factly, as if Mickey hanging out with them was a recurring occurrence.

The Milkovich siblings took off their coats and made their way into the crowded living room. Mickey whistled at the amount of stuff surrounding them, clearly impressed.

“If you need help unloading any of that, we know people.” he offered, looking around without ever letting his eyes land on Ian.

“No thanks.” Lip replied, sounding offended. “Frank is going to return all of these things, we don’t need the Milkoviches’ help.”

The look he sent Mickey could have killed, and Mickey returned it tenfold. The tension was palpable as a silent stand-off took place. Ian shifted from one foot to the other, not knowing what to do but also not wanting a murder to take place in their house. Mandy, thankfully, ignored them all and sat heavily on the couch, grabbing a controller.

“Me against Lip.” she declared. “Then Ian against Mickey, and the winners will fight each other.”

Lip relaxed softly, sitting carefully next to Mandy and grabbing his own controller. He kept his eyes on Mickey for a moment too long though, and Mandy took advantage of it to take the lead in the game. When he noticed it, Lip forgot all about Mickey and his need to win took over, bringing all of his attention to the screen. Ian used that moment of temporary distraction to grab Mickey’s elbow and bring him to the kitchen.

“You want some pop?” he asked once they were alone, a hand already on the fridge’s handle.

“Sure.” Mickey nodded, still sending little threatening glares in Lip’s direction.

Ian grabbed two cans of off-brand Coke from the fridge and gave one to Mickey, finally bringing his attention to something other than the oldest Gallagher boy. They both opened their sodas and started drinking, standing awkwardly next to each other.

“So… That’s my house...” Ian said after a while.

“I know.” Mickey replied condescendingly.

“It’s just that…” Ian hesitated. “You’ve never been here before...”

“Why would I come here?” Mickey shrugged. He seemed utterly uninterested by Ian, or his house or anything to do with either of them.

“Because we’re friends?” Ian suggested. “You could come over sometimes and we could play video games or I could show you my comic books.”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“That’s true.” Ian nodded – he’d take what he can get. “So you want to see my comic books?”

“Let’s play first, my sister is about to destroy your brother and I’m about to destroy you.” Mickey said with a smirk and a slight raise of eyebrows, heading for the living room as Mandy yelled: “You’re dead, sucker!”

Ian laughed and went to sit next to Mickey. They played for hours, alternating teams with every game, and Ian lost against every single one of them. Lip and Mickey channeled their anger against each other by killing each other’s character on screen over and over again while Ian and Mandy cheered them on. They were on their last game – as Fiona had called them for dinner at least three times already – Ian against Mickey, and Ian was loosing, _again_. He was getting frustrated, he stood up from the couch to follow his character more intensely but when that failed, he sat back down, noticing right away that he was now sitting way closer to Mickey than before, their thighs and knees touching. Neither Lip nor Mandy paid any attention to it, and Ian tried his best not to let the fire going up and down his leg distract him from the game. Against all odds though, and for the first time that day, Ian won as Mickey’s character became suddenly very passive under his attack. As the words _“You win!”_ flashed across the screen over his character celebrating victory, Ian turned his head to see Mickey’s eyes staring at their legs being pressed together. Mickey saw Ian look at him almost immediately and he jumped off the couch.

“Let’s go Mandy.” he said hastily. “Dad’s gonna start looking for us.”

“You could stay for dinner?” Ian suggested, hoping they’d accept.

“Oh yes, Mickey, please, can we?” Mandy enthusiastically pleaded.

“No.” Mickey replied, avoiding Ian’s gaze again. “Let’s go.”

He grabbed his coat, and fled through the door. Mandy turned to Ian and kissed his cheek.

“Sorry.” she smiled. “Another time.”

And then she left after her brother. Ian watched them go. They had spent such a nice day the four of them together, he had really hoped Mandy and Mickey could have stayed longer, but, at least, now Mickey would maybe be more open to the idea of a real friendship outside of the baseball dugouts...

******

Mickey knew perfectly well that Terry wouldn’t be looking for them, that he wouldn’t care if they never came home that night, their dad never did, but he needed to get out of there, Ian’s leg pressed up against his had been too much to handle. He was glad Lip or Mandy hadn’t noticed, but they could have had: he hadn’t lost any game that day, especially not against Ian, and then suddenly the redhead had killed his character left without defense because Mickey had been too busy focusing on every single point of contact between the two of them. He felt ashamed of himself and wanted to bury himself under his covers in bed for the rest of the evening in order to forget the whole thing. He walked fast, distancing Mandy, not too much because it was getting dark out and he didn’t want her to get hurt, but enough to make it impossible for her to talk to him. Once they were both safe – or as safe as they could be – inside their house, he locked himself in his bedroom and didn’t come out until the next morning.

During the next few days, Mickey waited patiently for Mandy to invite him to play video games at the Gallaghers’ again. He figured they wouldn’t get rid of their new consoles and TVs that fast and that another game day would be planned soon. She didn’t though and when Mickey asked, Mandy replied that video games were for dumb boys and she went back to painting her nails. It took less than a couple of hours after that for a group of twelve-year-old girls wearing too much make-up to come knock on the door, and Mandy left with them. Mickey assumed his sister had finally made it into the popular crowd in school and would be milking their influence for as long as she could. So when he was left alone with Iggy smoking a joint he would never want to share, Mickey figured he had to take matters into his own hands and he walked over to the Gallagher house. With his luck, it was Lip who opened the door, and Mickey was already turning around to go back home when he heard Ian calling his name.

“What are you doing here?” the redhead asked.

“Thought you could show me your comic books.” Mickey shrugged, and Ian’s face was illuminated with a smile.

“Of course! Follow me!”

The two boys sat on the floor of Ian and Lip’s bedroom for the rest of the afternoon, exploring Ian’s collection of comic books (most of them stolen by Lip, but some of them presents from their mom that Mickey had never met), marveling at the adventures of super-heroes who overcame obstacles on a daily basis and had lives that they, poor little South Side kids, would never live. Ian said he wanted to be Captain America, and that maybe he’d join the Army someday. Mickey preferred the dark, brooding Batman who had no parents and a lot of money to buy cool gadgets.

“You can keep it.” Ian said with a smile when it was time for Mickey to leave and he couldn’t let go of the Batman story he was reading.

Mickey muttered an inaudible “thanks” and left before Ian could change his mind. Once in the comfort of his bedroom, he hid the book safely under his mattress and, that night, he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

******

“Are you like friends with Ian now?”

Mickey looked up from the show he was watching on TV to see his sister standing there, with a flowery mini-skirt and a pink shirt both very different from her usual black clothes.

“Why are you talking like this?”

“Like what?”

“All bitchy like all these horrible girls you hang out with.”

Mandy scoffed and rolled her eyes in the exact same way the Queen Bee in her girl group did.

“Just… whatever.” she said, waving her freshly manicured hand. “Stop hogging my boyfriend all the time.”

Mickey shook his head and brought his attention back to the TV. Just when he knew Mandy was walking away but still close enough to hear him, he declared loudly:

“Ian is right: these girls have a bad influence on you!”

Mandy emitted a high-pitch sound of protest and ran the rest of the way to her room, slamming the door shut behind herself. Mickey laughed. Him and Ian were sort of friends now, and had spent more time playing video games or reading comic books. They were also talking more and more, and Ian had complained about Mandy’s new friends and their bitchy attitude. Of course, it filled Mickey with glee to point that out to his annoying little sister, but his joy was short-lived as his dad burst through the front door, looking his usual angry self.

“You.” he said, pointing at Mickey. “Pack your stuff. One bag. Tell your sister to do the same.”

Mickey turned the TV off and scrambled to do what he was told. He entered Mandy’s room without knocking, her whiny protest dying as soon as she saw the look on her brother’s face, and then he went to his own room, packing an old duffle bag with all the clothes he could fit in there, his toothbrush, and the Batman comic book Ian had offered him. He had no idea what was going on, where they were going and for how long, but he knew he needed that comic book with him, if only to not forget who had given it to him.

Terry shoved them both in the backseat of the car and started driving. Mickey felt Mandy’s hand gripping his and he squeezed it. They’d be okay, or so he hoped. Their dad stopped the car in front of an official looking building in downtown Chicago, asked them to get out of the car and to go inside the building. They obeyed in silence and heard the car start and drive away once the glass door had closed behind them.

“Where are we?” Mandy said in a small, frightened voice.

Mickey looked up at the big blue letters displayed on the wall in front of them.

“DCFS.” he sighed.


	5. A need to break free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey are still 12 and 13. Mickey deals with the group home he’s been placed in, Ian deals with his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a little personal headcanon of mine regarding Sandy in this chapter. As she just appeared randomly in the show and we don’t know who exactly are her parents, just that she’s a Milkovich and Mickey’s cousin, I invented a tiny bit of a backstory for her.

Mickey was always late now that he was in the group home. Ian and Mickey had gotten closer and closer lately, Ian could almost say they were best friends. They had spent a lot of time together, between the video games and the comic books, they had shared common interests and had talked quite a lot, but then Terry Milkovich had handed Mickey and Mandy off to DCFS, and since then Mickey had blew Ian off almost every time. Even Mandy was spending all of her free time with her bitchy friends. Ian had been waiting on their bench in the dugouts for almost an hour and Mickey was still a no-show. The chances of him coming were drawing thinner and thinner by the minute…

******

“Little Milky!” Mickey heard as he was about to leave to meet Ian, which he was already late for. He sighed deeply and turned around to face the three bullies that had been racketeering him since he was placed in this group home. Normally, as a Milkovich, and having grown up with brothers, Mickey would stand his ground and fight back, even against three very tall and bulky 15-year-old boys, but not only did Mickey’s height did not play in his favor in this situation, he was also trying to avoid getting into too much trouble, he didn’t want to end up in juvie with Iggy and leave Mandy alone now that their dad had literally abandoned them and that Mandy was placed in her own group home, separated from Mickey due to gender restrictions, herself needing to deal with a bunch of teenage delinquents.

“Little Milky.” the bully repeated – whose name Mickey was pretty sure was Austin. “You owe us money, remember? We don’t want to have to go ask your sister, do we? I heard she’s over on 47th, and she’s pretty too...”

Mickey closed his fists against his thighs and lowered his voice, trying to sound a little more threatening.

“Leave my sister alone.” he muttered, making the other guy snicker.

“Give me the twenty bucks you owe me and we won’t have a problem.”

Mickey took a deep, calming breath. He had decided not to fight back so he searched his pockets.

“I only have ten.” he admitted, handing the folded bill to Austin, who took it eagerly.

“You better get me the other ten tonight then.” the boy demanded. “Or you’ll sleep on the street like a fucking dog.”

By the time Mickey managed to get out of the situation and then walk to the other side of the neighborhood as fast as he could, he arrived at the dugouts almost two hours late, and Ian was gone. Mickey hadn’t expected any less of the redhead, he hadn’t been a very good friend lately, but a part of him was still hoping Ian would have waited. He sat on the bench and leaned his head against the brick wall. Just thinking about Ian these days was igniting a fire in his lower belly, and most of the time causing a problem he wasn’t able to take care of with the lack of privacy he had at the group home. He was alone right now though, and his 13-year-old self wouldn’t need much anyway… He unbuttoned his pants, spit in his right hand and slid it in his boxers. He stroke himself faster and faster for only a couple of minutes, imagining red hair and green eyes, and he was coming in his underwear.

******

Ian must had shown an extremely out of character moody behavior lately for Fiona to notice it and sit down next to him one morning over breakfast as he was mindlessly stirring his cereals in his bowl with his spoon instead of eating them.

“What’s going on, pumpkin?” the oldest Gallagher asked, ruffling Ian’s hair with the hand that wasn’t holding a mug of hot coffee.

Ian sighed deeply. There was something he had been wanting to ask his sister even though he already knew the answer. She seemed to be listening though and, for once, entirely focused on him, so maybe he had a chance?

“Can Mandy and Mickey come here?” he tried. “Can we be their foster home?”

Fiona let out a small, empathetic smile.

“No, I’m sorry sweetie.” she said softly. “I’m barely old enough to take care of you guys, my own siblings, by myself, so two more kids that aren’t Gallaghers? That would never work. And even if I could, it takes time to register as a foster family, it’s not that easy.”

Ian sighed again.

“It’s okay. I get it.”

“You miss your friends?” Fiona asked.

“Yeah, I never see them anymore… And being in a group home doesn’t sound fun...”

Fiona took a moment to think, sipping her coffee, before she spoke again.

“Maybe we could invite them for dinner one night?” she suggested, and Ian felt instantly better.

“Really?!”

“It’s the best I can do.” she shrugged.

Ian leaped off his chair and hugged his sister tightly.

“Thank you Fi!”

“Alright, pumpkin.” Fiona laughed, pushing him away. “Now finish your breakfast, you’re gonna be late for school.”

******

Mickey was running out of ideas to pay Austin off. The other boy was asking more and more everyday, and Mickey had stolen little by little, here and there all over the neighborhood, never enough to be noticed or caught, but it was getting too risky, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep going on like that anymore. Austin was so greedy and eager to show off his power, Mickey feared that confronting him wouldn’t end well. Today was a good day though: he had managed to see Ian and the redhead had invited him for dinner at his house that night. Ian also wanted to invite Mandy, but when Mickey had told him she was out of the group home, it had seemed less urgent for her to be taken care of by the Gallaghers. Mickey had gone to see his aunt a couple of days ago and he had pleaded with her to take them in her house. She had apologized many times, saying she couldn’t take both of them because she already had her own daughter to care for, so Mickey had asked her to at least take Mandy. The state had agreed quite easily (the less mouths they had to feed, the happier they were), and Mandy was now safe with their aunt and cousin Sandy. So Mickey was left with only himself to fend for – which he always preferred anyway – and his little issue with Austin to fix. But today was a good day, and knowing he would spend some time with Ian tonight fueled Mickey with the courage he needed to fight his bully.

******

Mickey was late again, and Ian was pacing back and forth in their living room, hoping his friend would still show up. Fiona had already fed Carl and Debbie, as they were hungry and couldn’t wait, but Lip was sitting on the couch, asking every few minutes if Ian was sure Mickey would show up. Ian kept answering that yes, he was sure, but he was losing faith in his own certainty. Finally, almost an hour after the agreed-upon time, there was a knock on the door. Ian rushed to go open it and Mickey almost collapsed in his arms.

“Shit!” Ian heard Lip exclaimed from behind him and then his brother was yelling: “Fiona!!!”

Ian half carried Mickey to the living room where he could better assess his state. He was beaten and bruised, blood dripping from his lips and somewhere on his forehead. He was still conscious, but was moaning lowly in pain, holding his chest, probably to cover a broken rib or two. Fiona rushed downstairs, looked at Mickey briefly and then declared:

“I’m gonna go get V.”

Veronica Fisher was their new neighbor, she had moved down the street with her boyfriend a few weeks ago and Fiona had immediately befriended her. Veronica was also a very efficient ghetto nurse and Fiona had asked her for help numerous times since they met, whether it was because Lip had gotten into another fight, or because Carl had fallen down the stairs again. V was there in a matter of minutes, as always, and she quickly started to examine Mickey. She told them it was mostly just bruises and cuts from what looked like a fight, and that no bone seemed broken. She cleaned his wounds and gave Mickey some ibuprofen.

Once she had left and Mickey had recovered enough to tell them that an older boy from the group home had done that to him (without forgetting to tell them he had given back just as well), Fiona decided that he was staying here for the night, and Social Services could take it up with her if they had a problem. Ian knew it was a risky decision considering they didn’t exactly want Social Services up in their business with their family situation and absence of parents, so he was even more thankful to his big sister for taking such a stand. They gave Mickey Ian’s bed, but Ian refused to sleep up in Lip’s bed when his big brother offered to take the couch, he was so afraid for his friend he wanted to stay near him all night, so he made space for himself next to Mickey on the small twin bed in the corner of the room. Mickey protested a little, but he was overall too out of it to really fight Ian back on that, so they both fell asleep crowded against each other in a bed made for one.

******

It took Mickey all of ten seconds when he woke up to remember where he had fallen asleep, and another ten to realize that Ian was pressed up against him, snuggling him like a teddy bear. The redhead mumbled something in his sleep, his hot breath caressing Mickey’s neck and creating a little problem down south Mickey wasn’t quite sure how to take care of, so he removed himself from Ian’s tight hold, trying his best not to wake the other boy up but failing miserably. Ian blinked a couple of times and then smiled when he saw Mickey looking at him. For the slightest of seconds, Mickey’s glance switched down to the sweat pants Ian had loaned him the previous night and what was happening in them, and Ian followed that glance. In a moment of utter panic, Mickey flew out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. He tried to lock the door but gave up when he realized it was broken, and he just sat on the closed toilet seat, head between his hands. This was so incredibly awkward, Mickey wished he could just disappear. It was only a moment before there was a soft knock on the door. Mickey didn’t say anything and the door was pushed open, tentatively.

“Are you okay?” Ian’s sweet voice asked.

Mickey remained silent, face hidden in his hands. Through the little gaps between his fingers, he could see Ian going to sit on the edge of the bathtub across from him.

“I’m sorry.” the redhead said after a while, surprising Mickey.

“For what?” he asked, his voice muffled by the skin of his palms.

“For… you know...”

Mickey slowly dropped his hands to look at Ian who was staring at his feet, his face as red as his hair.

“What are you talking about?”

“I got a...” Ian struggled to explain, blushing even harder. “A, you know… in the bed… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

Mickey almost laughed at the situation: him hiding in the bathroom, ashamed of a simple morning wood, with his friend coming to apologize for his very own erection that Mickey hadn’t even noticed, too afraid to be caught in his unwanted feelings. He was about to tell Ian it was okay and to forget about the whole thing, when the redhead added something Mickey wished he hadn’t.

“I’m not really dating Mandy, you know. I think… I think I might be gay...”

Mickey wanted to scream and punch something. He wanted to yell at Ian, make him understand he didn’t need to know that.

“Have you ever...” Ian continued. “Uh… done _stuff_?”

It was all way too similar to the whole “first kiss” conversation and Mickey was starting to really hate it because he remembered how it had ended last time, what he had done, and he was afraid of what he would do this time. He didn’t say anything, not trusting his own words, letting Ian do all the talking.

“A girl at school asked me if I wanted her to… jerk me off.” Ian confessed.

“What… What did you say?” Mickey asked, trying to sound uninterested but knowing he was failing.

“I said I didn’t want to cheat on Mandy.” Ian replied, his fingers playing with a loose thread on his pajamas. “But I don’t think I want a girl to touch me that way...”

There was a moment of silence, heavy with many things. Mickey took a deep, uneven breath, and then he stood up. He took one step toward Ian and stopped right in front of him. The redhead looked up at him, his big green eyes wide, and Mickey lowered his hand to his friend’s crotch. He rubbed the fabric for a second, feeling a hardness grow almost instantly. He kept rubbing, a little faster, a little rougher, focusing on his breathing and staring intently at the shower curtain to not get a similar condition in his own pants. It didn’t take long for Ian to grab his hand and maintain it still on his crotch while he emitted a small, high-pitched whine. Mickey took his hand back immediately after it was over.

“You’re probably gay.” he told Ian with a hoarseness in his voice.

And then he left his friend in the bathroom. He went to get his packet of cigarette from his pants on the floor of the bedroom and went downstairs and out through the kitchen door to get some fresh air. As he exhaled the smoke of his cigarette he thought about how proud he was of his own self-control.

******

It took Ian a whole five minutes to come down of what had happened with Mickey in the bathroom. It was the most incredible thing he had ever lived, but he was also deadly afraid of what it meant for their friendship. When Mickey never came back, Ian looked for him in the rest of the house and found him outside, sitting on the steps in the back, smoking by himself. Ian sat next to him, quietly.

“I don't like to kiss boys.” Mickey said without looking at Ian. “I don't like to kiss you, I like girls. You’re still Mandy’s boyfriend, and that's it.”

Ian nodded. He understood what Mickey meant, he knew he needed to stay Mandy’s boyfriend officially, it was the only safe thing to do in this neighborhood.

“Are we still friends?” he wondered.

Mickey looked at him and smiled.

“Yeah, friends.”


	6. Megan Fox and Roger Spikey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey grow up. They start to have sex, but not with each other.

Mickey went back to the group home that same day and, unsurprisingly, nobody had really noticed his absence. He was asked about his bruises though, but he dismissed the question with the natural phlegm that came with growing up in the Milkovich house. Bruises were bruises, he was used to them, and no amount of prying would make him snitch on anybody, especially when he knew retaliation could be in order, so he kept his mouth shut and laid low for the next few months. Austin quickly found a new, easier to pick on victim and left Mickey relatively alone, which allowed him to spend more time with Ian and visit Mandy and Sandy from time to time. The situation with Ian was unchanged, even after the little bathroom incident, they were friends and neither of them ever asked for more. It didn’t keep Mickey from dreaming about him though, and thinking about him in his most intimate moments, which was becoming more and more inconvenient.

Almost a year after he had dropped them off with DCFS, Terry came back from wherever he had been and, by some miracle Mickey would never understand, he managed to get his kids back from the system, so both Mickey and Mandy moved back into their house and their life went back to what it used to be. Only a few weeks after he was back, Terry took Mickey with him to give someone a beat down, because none of his other brothers were available, and Mickey very quickly understood that the guy didn’t owe them money, or hadn’t stolen anything from them, the only thing he had done wrong was to love other men. Mickey was 14 and, on his way back home, he stopped by a convenience store to steal a magazine with posters of Megan Fox that he hung up on his bedroom's walls, just above his head.

******

“I think Justin Santos is into me.” Mandy announced as she was lying on her bed, looking up at the ceiling.

Soft music was playing in the background, and Ian was sitting on the floor, back against her bed, trying to finish their English homework.

“Do you think I should go for it?” she added.

Mandy was always asking for Ian’s approval every time she was into a boy or a boy was into her. To the outside world, it might have been because they were officially a couple, but Ian knew it was simply because Mandy trusted him more than she trusted anyone else on Earth.

“If you want.” the redhead shrugged. “He’s not too bad looking, and I know you already let Spencer Griffin finger you, so...”

“Oh yeah, that was fun!” Mandy sighed happily, apparently remembering the moment.

“Please, don’t tell me again.” Ian pleaded. “It was horrific the first time...”

“Oh, shut up!” Mandy laughed, slapping the back of his head playfully. “What about you? Nobody at school you’re interested in? I could prepare the field for you, check if they’re gay...”

Ian left his gaze wander away from his English notebook for a moment, and into the Milkovich kitchen that he could see through the slightly ajar door and in which Mickey was making a sandwich for himself.

“Nope.” he answered, looking back down at the essay he was supposed to write. “Nobody.”

“You know,” Mandy continued, relentless at the idea of finding her best friend a guy to hook up with. “I heard Roger Spikey might be...”

“Might be what?” Mickey interrupted, walking in his sister’s bedroom unannounced.

“Well hung.” Mandy smirked, sitting up.

“Yeah, Donkey Dick Spikey, I heard that too.” Mickey nodded as he sat on the chair in the corner of the room, eating his sandwich.

“Why are you here, Mickey?” Mandy groaned. “I was hanging out with my friend!”

“He’s my friend too.” Mickey shrugged.

“Just…. Argh!!!”

Mandy jumped from her bed and stomped all the way to the bathroom. Ian stood from his spot on the floor to go and sit across from Mickey on Mandy’s bed.

“She’s just trying to hook me up with a guy.” he explained, and he saw Mickey’s eyes quickly switch to the open door and back.

“You shouldn’t say shit like that in this house.” he mumbled. “My dad’s not a big fan of...”

Mickey made a vague hand gesture toward Ian, who raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Me?”

“No. Not you specifically, just, in general…”

“Gay people?”

“Yeah, so you should keep that kind of talk for your own house.”

“Got it.” Ian nodded, a little aggravated, and he went back to sit away from Mickey.

He wasn’t sure why, but the idea that Mickey didn’t want him to mention his sexuality and wasn’t even able to say the word “gay” out loud was rubbing Ian the wrong way, he felt judged and not supported by his own friend. Mickey had never said anything bad about it, but the way he avoided the subject all together wasn’t much better.

Mandy soon came back from the bathroom and the conversation changed to something else. Ian let the siblings’ constant banter go over his head and he tried not to think too much about what Mickey had said to him, instead focusing on the extract of Oliver Twist they were supposed to read and comment.

******

Time went by, and Mickey's bedroom walls were filling up with posters of sexy women, and naked boobs, and occasionally Megan Fox. He also started to have sex, with girls. With lots of girls. With too many girls. Once in a while though, he slid another kind of porno magazine in between the ones he stole, a magazine with no women in it. And whenever his dad and brothers were out of the house, he took the familial laptop to watch another kind of porn – a kind he had to clear the history of. He also experimented with his body alone in his bedroom, trying to find out what he really liked. To the outside world of course, and to Ian – _especially_ to Ian – he was a regular straight dude who liked to bang chicks. To himself, he was the most confused teenage boy on the planet and probably also the most closeted.

His first time had been a nightmare. His dad and brothers had taken him to a hooker as some kind of Milkovich rite of passage, and it was gross, dirty and horrible, but Mickey pretended he enjoyed himself. His dad had put a hand on his shoulder after he had came out of the room and had said: “Good, son. You're a man now.” His brothers had compared it with their own first times, bragging more and more about their sexual prowesses. When he had met up with Ian later that day, Mickey was still feeling filthy, but he told the redhead the exact same story he had told his family without getting lost in the details. Ian had just nodded silently, like he didn't really want to hear about that, but also like he somehow knew Mickey was full of shit but had decided not to go against him.

And weeks after weeks after that, Ian silently listened to Mickey's girls stories. Mickey never fucked a girl more than once – sometimes twice when she wasn't too much of a bitch. He didn't date, didn't kiss, just went for it. A girl managed to kiss him once, while they were doing it. It was the first and last time he did it face to face.

******

After Mandy’s suggestion and a lot of nagging on her part, Ian went to talk to Roger Spikey at school. Roger was not very interesting, not very bright and not very hot, he was just some random dude, some random _gay_ dude, and that was all Ian needed at this point. Roger wasn't as good as Ian to hide his sexuality, a lot of rumors had popped up at school about him and Ian had noticed him very clearly checking him out in a lot of classes they had in common – _bad move in this neighborhood_ , Ian thought, _bad move_ – so he decided to make a move on him. He wanted, at the very least, to kiss another boy than Mickey, part of him wanted to make sure that he really liked it, and he thought that maybe he'll let things go further and try sex with a boy. Mandy already had sex, she talked about it way too much for the redhead’s taste. She said that she didn't like it so much but it wasn't keeping her from doing it again apparently, she had this theory that the more she would do it, the more she would like it, and that, maybe, one day, one of the guys she would fuck would be the one, her soulmate, the love of her life, all that girly crap. Ian wasn't so sure he believed it, for now he just wanted to experiment, to find out what he actually liked, so he went to Roger Spikey, and the guy didn't say no to a meeting under the bleachers after school – again, bad move, Ian could have been a crazy homophobic teen – and he didn't say no to a kiss, and he didn't say no to a hand job. Ian didn't want to go further than that for now, a hand job was more than enough and more than what he had hoped for. It wasn’t exceptionally good, both boys were quite awkward and unassertive, but it was enough for Ian to be 100% certain he was gay. He figured that, judging by Roger's reaction, the other boy would probably be okay for more in the near future, and that was always good to know.

Ian went to meet Mickey the next day with more confidence than ever before. Mickey was always talking about the multitude of girls he was having sex with, and this time Ian would have things to tell to. He arrived just late enough, not necessarily on purpose, but a little bit because it kind of amused him to annoy Mickey into showing he cared. They were meeting at the baseball dugouts, their favorite spot and the only place that allowed for some privacy, and Ian stole Mickey’s cigarette as soon as he sat on the bench. Mickey scoffed but almost immediately let it go. Ian exhaled the smoke in what he tried to be a circle and then handed the cigarette back to his friend.

“Fuck anyone good this week?” he asked nonchalantly.

Mickey raised an eyebrow, he wasn’t used to Ian being so forward about it, it was normally always him that started that type of conversation. Ian smiled proudly.

“Nobody worth remembering.” Mickey admitted, his voice tensing up a little as if he was reminded a bad memory he wanted to forget.

“Well, I did.” Ian gloated.

Mickey looked at him, confused.

“You did what?”

“I fucked someone worth remembering.” Ian smirked.

It was a lie, of course, as he hadn’t exactly “fucked” Roger in the strict sense of the word, and if he had he was sure Roger would not be worth remembering in the long term, but he liked the way Mickey frowned and showed what looked like anger or… jealousy maybe? Ian quickly shook this idea out of his head, he was getting ahead of himself. Just as it arrived, it was gone, and Mickey regained composure, laughing a little.

“Don’t tell me you’re talking about my sister, I don’t want to hear about that!”

“You really think I would talk about fucking Mandy to you?” Ian said while rolling his eyes. “I kinda want to keep my kneecaps.”

Mickey snorted and handed the cigarette back to Ian.

“Okay, lover boy, so who did you fuck?”

The question was asked casually but it was full of unspoken interrogations Ian knew Mickey would never say out loud: did you fuck a girl? And if it wasn't a girl, did you really like it? Or are you just messing with me?

“Some guy from school.” he shrugged.

“Was it Donkey Dick Spikey?” Mickey asked, quick on his feet.

“If I answer that,” Ian inquired. “Are you going to go fag bash him with your brothers and your dad?”

“Fuck you, Gallagher. You know I wouldn’t do that!”

Ian didn’t say anything, he knew Mickey wouldn’t do that personally, but he also knew the stories Mandy had told him about their family. Mickey took the cigarette back and finished it. He threw the butt on the ground.

“I didn’t fag bash _you_ , did I?” he muttered softly.

“No, that’s true.” Ian sighed. “You’d miss me too much...”

That last affirmation worked as Ian intended to and made Mickey laugh, diffusing the tension. They dropped the subject after that and Ian suggested a race all the way to his house to try the new video game Lip had gotten for his birthday. Not talking about heavy shit was always their way of dealing with things in their relationship. Did it work? Ian tried not to ponder on that too often.

******

_Ian fucked a boy. Ian fucked a boy._ The thought was on replay in Mickey's mind. _Ian fucked a boy. Ian fucked another boy. Another boy than him._ No, he couldn't think that. Did Mickey want to fuck Ian? Maybe. Probably. Definitely. No, no, no, no. He couldn't think that. It's wasn't... _safe_. Yes, that was it, it wasn't safe, his dad would kill him. And his brothers would help. _Ian fucked a boy._ How was it even possible? How was it even doable? That stupid redhead would get himself killed pulling shit like this in this neighborhood. If people heard about it... But, on the other hand, if it was discreet, in an empty place, at a strategic time, like saying in the dugouts of the baseball field early in the morning... No. Mickey couldn't think that, he couldn't let his mind go there. He suddenly stood up from his bed where he had been lying under the judgmental look of Megan Fox, grabbed his pack of cigarettes, and headed out. He needed to walk, to smoke, to clear his head, and maybe to beat the shit out of some random guy too.


	7. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey are 14 and 15 years old, and things at home aren't quite right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer than the others but unedited because I was too lazy and impatient to do it... I might come back to it later, but in the meantime enjoy it as it is!  
> By the way, if any of you out there wants to help me and be my beta, applications are open 😉

When Ian turned 14, Lip told him it was time to lose his virginity, he even suggested a couple of girls he knew who would be willing to do it if his girlfriend wasn’t.

“Although I’m pretty sure half the guys in school have already been sticking it to her.” Lip added, laughing. “You do know your girlfriend is not faithful, right? Unless, these are just school gossips, which it could be...”

“Mandy is not my girlfriend.” Ian had finally confessed. “She’s my best friend and she’s great but… I’m gay.”

“Oh shit.” Lip exclaimed. “I’m sorry!”

The conversation that followed was a little bit awkward (with Lip joking nothing was supposed to go up your butt as the whole point of the digestive system was to only go one way), but, in the end, his brother was incredibly supportive and Ian was thankful for that. So then Lip started making a list of all the guys he thought were also into guys at school to give Ian options, and Ian told him about Roger Spikey. Lip thought Ian should lose his virginity with him, as they were already familiar with each other’s dicks, and Ian shrugged a “maybe”.

He did meet up with Roger again though, and when Roger showed himself interested in the proposition, they had what Ian could only qualify as his “awkward as hell first time”. They were in Roger’s bedroom, with posters of occult old movies all over the walls, and a picture of Roger and his parents on the bedside table. Thankfully, Ian was doing the fucking as he wasn't really feeling like having a dick up his ass for his first time, and Roger didn't really mind taking it. It was fifty shade of clumsy and ungraceful, and definitely not “worth remembering”, but Ian figured it had to be done, he had to have sex at some point in his life and because he couldn’t do it with the one person he truly wanted to do it with, Roger was the next best thing. And, cherry on top, Roger told him after they were done – which was pretty quick – that he was transferring school at the end of the school year, so Ian wouldn’t have to deal with unwelcome attachment like Lip did with so many of his girls, they could fuck occasionally and then Roger would be out of the picture without Ian having to get rid of him. Still, Ian began to understood what Mandy meant when she said that sex isn't great until you meet the right guy. Maybe it made him a girl, a pussy, or just a hopeless romantic, but this idea started to dig its way into his brain that sex with Roger was nothing compared to what sex with Mickey would be like….

******

Mickey hadn’t slept in almost three days, since Ian had blown him off to go hang out with his boyfriend, Roger “fucking” Spikey. Technically, he knew Roger wasn’t Ian’s boyfriend as Ian never referred to him as such, and he was pretty certain they had only slept together twice, but still, the idea of Ian with another boy was driving him crazy. He hadn’t fucked girls in way too long and his dad was starting to notice, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it, he was sick of it, sick of his life, sick of his lie, sick of not being able to do what he truly wanted to do. He was drinking and smoking way too much for a 15-year-old and he knew he couldn’t last like this very long.

Twenty-four hours later, he was banging on the Gallaghers’ door, ready to do something his dad would most likely kill him for. Ian was the one to open and, when he saw him, Mickey froze.

“Hey Mick.” the redhead smiled. “What are you doing here?”

“I...” Mickey stuttered. “Uh...”

“Come in.” Ian said, opening the door wider.

Ian was acting as if he had no idea that Mickey’s head was swirling in a million thoughts, and who could blame him for that? He was just being nice, he was Mickey’s friend. Mickey followed him up in his room and just nodded when the redhead said Lip was out with Karen Jackson and Fiona had taken the other kids to the park. They were alone. Mickey was going to throw up. They sat on his bed and Ian started talking about Roger Spikey. At some point he said the words “blow job” and Mickey was brought back to Earth.

“What?”

“I was asking if you’ve ever gotten a blow job before?” Ian repeated.

Mickey felt himself blush. Every time Ian started with questions like this, it always ended with them doing what he was asking about, and, right now, he was picturing Ian on his knees doing to Mickey that very thing he was talking about.

“I’ve just never received or given one.” Ian continued, way more self-assured than all the other times, and it threw Mickey off. “I was thinking of doing it with Roger but I don’t want to mess it up you know, so if you have any advice...”

“You can do it.” Mickey blurted out before he changed his mind.

“What?” Ian asked, looking extremely confused.

“The blow job.” Mickey said. “You clearly want to practice for your _boyfriend_ and that’s always how it ends, isn’t it? You asked me about kissing, and we kissed, and then you asked me about jerking off or whatever, and I did it, so if you want to suck my dick, just fucking do it.”

Ian let out a big laugh.

“That’s not what I meant, Mick, I promise. I know you’re not into guys, I really just wanted advice, I figured one of your girls must have done it and you could tell me what works and what doesn’t work.”

Mickey should have been relieved, his brain told him that much, but his heart broke a little at Ian’s honesty. The redhead kept talking and Mickey blocked it out. He almost felt like crying, that was really fucking gay. He wanted to leave, and to punch Roger Spikey in the face and in the dick so that he would never be able to use it again. But he stayed put, he was incapable of moving. And then his brain made a decision and spoke without consulting him.

“I want you to do it.” he said, barely above a whisper. “Suck my dick, I want you to do it...”

Ian opened his mouth and then closed it again.

“I thought...” the redhead stuttered. “You said...”

“It’s not gay if you’re doing it.” Mickey declared, knowing he was full of shit but not ready to say otherwise.

“Okay.” Ian quickly replied, probably afraid Mickey would change his mind, and he sunk to his knees.

He unbuttoned Mickey’s pants quickly, and pulled them down. He stopped at the boxers and gave Mickey a look that seemed to mean “You’re sure?”. Mickey nodded, and Ian took off his boxers too. The redhead took a shaky breath as Mickey’s dick sprung out, already ready for action. Mickey suddenly became a little nervous as he realized what they were doing, and he was about to call it off when Ian just went for it. He moaned at the feeling of the redhead's tongue on him, and the sight of his head bobbing. His technique was lacking a little, obviously, but what did it matter? It was not like Mickey had a lot to compare it to anyway, only one girl had ever sucked him off and it had been light years from this. He was almost afraid that this was going to be over before it even started. He tangled his hand in the red hair. Ian licked a long line down his shaft and then sucked on the tip, and Mickey had to push his head away.

“Fuck! I’m gonna...”

Ian didn’t need more than that, he pulled out and started jerking Mickey off, his hand sliding easily up and down with the remaining of his saliva. Mickey groaned one last “Fuck!” and he came in his friend’s hand. Ian stood up and went to the bathroom to wash up. Once he was gone, Mickey let himself fall back onto the bed and cursed himself internally. This had been so very stupid but he already wanted to do it again. He had no idea what to say to Ian when he came back, but the redhead acted as if nothing had happened and suggested they went to play video games. Mickey had never been more grateful to him for that.

******

Home, to Ian Gallagher, was noisy, messy, but also joy and love, but that summer, the summer of his 14 years old, Monica was back, only to drop another baby – a Black one this time, so probably not Frank’s – on the family – or on Fiona more precisely. The summer passed very slowly. It was hot outside and crowded inside, and the only thing Ian enjoyed more than relaxing in the pool Lip and him had stolen to put in their backward, was to meet Mickey at the dugouts early in the morning. Their meetings went from once a week or so to once every two days. They never had proper sex, it was usually just Ian sucking Mickey's dick – never the other way around, it was _too gay_ for Mickey's taste – or jerking each other off, and all that always just to get some release – you know, just “bros being bros”, helping each other out. Of course, Ian did not believe one second in the “bro thing”, and he constantly wanted something more from Mickey, so much more, but never asked for it. He knew Mickey wasn't ready, and was too scared to give it to him. So he just enjoyed what he had. Plus, he had the feeling that Mickey fucked less girls – or, at least, he talked less about it.

******

Home, to Mickey Milkovich, was cold, dead silent, scary and violent, and that summer, Terry was back, once again, from prison. It wasn't a surprise, Terry was always back from prison, but sometimes, just for a brief moment of pseudo happiness, Mickey allowed himself to believe that his father would never get out. These moments, very small moments, were usually when he was with Ian, just after he checked for the 50th time that nobody could see them, and just before he started to imagine what would his dad do if he found out about them. _Them?_ They weren't even a _them_ , a _us_ , they were just two dudes hanging out; talking, drinking, smoking, touching each other's dick when they got hard – which they always did when they were together – you know, normal dude stuff. Right? Even Mickey knew it was bullshit, utter, deep bullshit, but he chose to believe as much as he could in this bullshit, because it was the only thing allowing him not to drown. Drown in something he couldn't be, something he couldn't want. Drown in Ian Gallagher.

******

When school came back and it was time for Ian to start high school, he made two decisions: one, he joined the Junior ROTC, and two, he found a job at a local convenience store. Both allowed him to be out of the house more often, one actually putting food on the table, and the other giving him the opportunity to, one day, maybe, leave the South Side of Chicago. Monica had left again, of course, Monica was always leaving, but Terry hadn't and Ian knew it. He saw it every day in Mickey and Mandy’s eyes. Mickey came to their meetings with more bruises than the usual 'I just beat the shit out of some guy in the street', and Mandy was more and more silent. Ian tried to talk to Mickey, but his friend just shrugged it off, stating he had nothing to talk about. Ian tried to talk to Mandy, and she gave him a very scary look, it was somewhat menacing – because Mandy was always more or less menacing – but it was also very afraid, and Ian knew that even if she wanted to talk about it, she couldn't, so he gave her a quick but loving hug to let her know that he would always be there when she would be ready. That was how it went, Ian didn't try to talk more about or to understand what it was like to live with Terry Milkovich, he just knew that he could never, and he felt lucky, in a way, to have Frank as a father. Frank was a drunk and a pathetic excuse for a human being, but at least he had only hit Ian once. It was on a Saturday evening in September, and Ian showed up to meet with Mickey with a black eye. Mickey immediately jumped to his feet.

“What happened to you?”

Ian suppressed a smile at Mickey’s concern, especially because his friend was in a worse state than him.

“To me?” he snorted. “Have you seen yourself?”

“Fuck off.” Mickey dismissed. “I'm always fighting. You don't fight.”

Ian raised an eyebrow.

“How do you know I don't fight?”

Mickey shot him a knowing look.

“Come on man. What happened?”

Ian shrugged and went to sit on their bench.

“Frank happened.” he explained, lighting his own cigarette this time – or Lip’s cigarette, but not Mickey’s at least.

“Your piece of shit dad?” Mickey exclaimed. “I'm gonna break every knuckle on his hand, all 15 of them! He won't be able to use his fists no more!”

Ian smiled softly, Mickey was way too cute.

“Don't.” he shook his head. “He has lousy short-term memory, he's probably already forgotten. Plus, a hand only has 14 knuckles.”

******

Mickey went back to high school that year. He hated it, and he was bad at it, but he went anyway, without actually knowing why. Although, when he realized what the teachers were asking from him, and how much it could cost him to pay for Lip Gallagher's perfect papers to, at least, finish the year, he decided he was done and never went back after the first week. So here he was, hanging around in the streets by day, helping his brothers and father with various 'jobs' and kicking his boredom – quite literally – by going into fights with other thugs; and meeting Ian by night – they had decided to change their meetings from mornings to nights because of Ian's new crazy schedule.

The first time the redhead had arrived in the dugouts in his ROTC uniform, Mickey had to fight hard not to jump him and ask him to fuck him right here and then. Ian walked toward him with a big stupid smile on his face.

“So, what do you think?” he asked, extending his arms to really show off his new military outfit.

“Looks like you're ready to get your ass shot by some crazy Muslim dude.” Mickey mocked.

Ian smiled at the comment, and sat next to him, stealing his cigarette and taking a drag.

“Speaking of which...” he started before Mickey stole his cigarette back. “My new boss is Muslim, and I think he wants a piece of my ass. Not in the same way though...”

Mickey did one of his best eyebrows raising thing.

“He wants to marry you in front of some weird Arab dude and make you wear a scarf for the rest of your life?”

Ian chuckled.

“He's already married. And he has kids.”

“So... you’re gonna fuck him?”

Ian shrugged.

“Maybe... I need someone to fuck right?”

The redhead tried to rise his eyebrows ironically the way Mickey always did. Mickey laughed.

“You're like some kind of horny middle-aged housewife, aren't you?”

“No.” Ian shook his head. “I’m a horny teenager.”

Mickey shoved his shoulder playfully. He didn’t want to hear about that…

“You don't fuck Mandy?”

“No, you know I don't fuck Mandy.” Ian sighed.

“You could.” Mickey shrugged. “She's your girlfriend.”

“I don't want to fuck Mandy. And she's not really my girlfriend, she's my best friend.”

“I thought _I_ was your best friend!”

Ian looked at Mickey with an expression that scared the shit out of him.

“You wanna talk labels, Milkovich?”

Mickey couldn’t answer anything to that, so he changed the subject.

“You want me to scare that towel head off?”

“Nah, I'm fine.” Ian said dismissively. “I can defend myself, and he's kind of nice.”

Mickey snorted, and that was the end of this conversation for the day.

But the very next day, when Ian was in the middle of his shift at the Kash and Grab, Mickey showed up unexpectedly. He barely looked at the redhead but stared openly at Kash, stealing things here and there to cover his presence. Ian had trouble hiding his smile. He loved that Mickey was 'protecting' him, or at least protecting his territory. So Mickey kept coming, stealing chips, or salsa, or sodas, or candies – especially Snickers bars – and watching Kash so he couldn't touch Ian. And Ian decided to never fuck Kash.

******

Mickey couldn't stop going to the Kash and Grab. He knew his brothers and father started to get onto him, but if he kept bringing them food and kept going with them on their runs, he was in the clear. The only reason he was going to the Kash and Grab though was to make sure the creepy old pedophile owning the place wasn't planning on molesting a poor innocent redhead. A poor innocent redhead with deep green eyes. A poor innocent redhead with deep green eyes and a big, huge dick... Alone at home, lying on his bed with a bottle of lube he was swiped from the nearest CVS, Mickey let his right hand travel down his body until his already hard cock. He closed his eyes, imaging Ian's hands and mouth on him. His movements became faster, so did his breathing. With his other hand, he started touching his ass, and slowly pushed one finger in. Two fingers. Three fingers. Ian pounding relentlessly into him, Ian's chest crowding his back, Ian's fingers digging into his hips, Ian panting into his ears. Mickey came hard into his hand. God, he needed to get laid. He wasn't fucking girls anymore – well, except when he was out in bars with his brothers and father and felt like he needed to to save his skin – but he wasn't fucking anybody either. He wasn't sure if he actually wanted to. Well... to be honest he really, _really_ wanted to fuck Ian, or, more precisely, to be fucked by him, but he knew he couldn't. Not with Terry around, not with Terry this close... He suddenly jumped away from his bed.

“Fuck this shit.”

******

Ian had already been waiting for twenty minutes when Mickey finally showed up. He seemed annoyed and mentally exhausted, but also hesitating. Ian waited patiently until Mickey was standing in front of him, a determined look on his expressive face. He threw a condom and a small bottle of lube on Ian’s lap.

“You better make it worth remembering, Gallagher.”


	8. Like a promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey are 15 and 16 years old, and the return of Monica brings some news.

“Come on Gallagher, get a move on. I need to get home soon, my dad’s waiting.”

The Gallagher house was uncharacteristically empty – or maybe it was just the middle of the day and everybody was either at school or at work, except for Ian who was ditching to sneak around with Mickey. Ever since that first time, they took every opportunity they could find to have sex, even if that meant missing school. Having a good education didn’t seem very relevant to Ian when he could have his dick inside of Mickey instead, and that’s how they found themselves banging against the kitchen counter.

“Please, don't talk about your family when my dick's in your ass.” Ian demanded, thrusting a little faster as Mickey rested his head against his wrist.

“You rather… _ah, fuck_ … You rather I talk about _your_ family?” Mickey retorted, his mocking tone getting lost in between his grunts and moans.

Ian stopped what he was doing, stilling his hips against Mickey’s and holding him in place. Some days, he wished Mickey would agree to do it in another position that allowed them to be more intimate than a quick fuck when nobody was looking, but he had to admit it was quite nice to be able to be in control like this, especially when Mickey was being a smartass in the middle of their very limited time together.

“Are you actually trying to cock block me?” Ian challenged, his voice dropping an octave in order to appear a little more threatening.

Mickey turned his head to look at him, a smirk on his face.

“Believe me.” he said “That's really _not_ what I'm doing.”

Ian leaned closer, reaching around to take Mickey’s dick in his hand and rub it quickly, making the other boy gasp.

“Oh, I think I know...” he whispered, making sure his mouth was right next to Mickey’s ear.

He really, _really_ wanted to kiss Mickey, but they hadn't kiss since that very first time when they were still kids, so he stood back up and went back to his pounding, getting Mickey's ass closer to his hips. He didn’t miss the little whine Mickey let escape though, when Ian broke their close proximity. Each pant, each groan, each strangled grunt of pleasure that came out of his mouth made Ian grow closer to his own release, he held on to them and tried to get them engraved in his memory for that day when Mickey would inevitably grow tired of him.

“Fuuuck...” both boys let out almost at the same time.

Ian's movements became less controlled, more erratic, as he tried to match them to his hand around Mickey's leaking dick.

“Fuck, I'm so close.” he let out.

“Me too.” Mickey grunted back.

The words were only whispers now, like promises spoken only between them, Ian leaning against Mickey's back, his mouth so close to the other boy's neck. And that was it. Mickey came in Ian's hand and on the counter in front of him. Ian pounded into him a few more times, and he was filling the condom with a grunt. When Mickey knew he was done, he threw a gentle elbow back into Ian’s ribs to get him off him.

******

[Mick 4.04pm] _you fucking my sister?_

Ian was lying on Mandy's bed as the girl was sitting next to him, both trying to study for their history exam. If only Ian's phone would stop buzzing… He grabbed it and typed a quick reply.

[Ian 4.05pm] _You bet I am. I'm giving it to her good and hard. Don't you hear the bed knocking_ _against_ _your wall?_

Ian smiled as he sent the message, and Mandy sighed.

[Mick 4.06pm] _fuck you_ _g_ _allagher_

[Ian 4.06pm] _I_ _'d_ _rather fuck you Milkovich ;_ _)_

Eyes still glued to the screen, Ian smiled again, and Mandy sighed again.

“So, when do I get to meet your mystery guy?” she asked, trying to sneak a peek at Ian’s phone while the redhead expertly hid it from her.

“I told you Mands, he's not out yet...”

Ian locked his phone and put it away, looking at his friend. He really wished he could tell her so that they could spend hours talking about his gigantic crush and analyzing every single one of Mickey’s confusing signals, but not only was Mickey very closeted, he was also her brother, so, in the end, Ian doubted Mandy would appreciate knowing how many times a week he pounded his ass.

“Can't you at least give me something?!” Mandy pleaded. “One little tiny detail? Pleeeaaase???”

Ian raised his upper body to support himself on his elbows. Mandy was looking at him expectantly with her familiar blue eyes and a small smirk on her lips. Ian smiled back and thought for a second. He needed to tell her something big enough to get her to stop nagging him for a while, but small enough so that she couldn’t guess her own brother’s identity.

“Okay...” he sighed and Mandy's smile got bigger. “He... has blue eyes.”

“Oooh... That's so cute.” Mandy exclaimed a little too loudly, and Ian’s phone buzzed again.

[Mick 4.12pm] _what's wrong with_ _m_ _andy?_

[Ian 4.13pm] _Just told her a little something about 'my mystery guy'. ;_ _)_

[Mick 4.13pm] _what the fuck_ _g_ _allagher???_

A second later, Mickey was in the doorway of Mandy's bedroom, his eyebrows frowned and a displease look on his face that had Ian on the verge of laughing out loud.

“Why you screaming like a little girl?” Mickey spat at his sister.

“Maybe because I am a girl, Mick.” Mandy answered, clearly annoyed.

Ian leaned back down on the bed, smiling again as the siblings started to throw playful insults at each other. If Mickey wasn’t so adamant about hiding their relationship, this could be them everyday, and Ian loved that dynamic, so he soaked in as much as he could.

******

Gallagher's stupid smile was annoying the shit out of Mickey, but he also kind of loved it. _Like_ _d_ _it._ Liked it, not loved. Now that the two boys had started fucking, Mickey couldn't get enough of the redhead, he would deny it before a god he didn’t believe in, obviously, but still, it was painfully true. He was always the first one to arrive at the dugouts, bringing beers and cigarettes (Ian was bringing the lube and condoms), he always found excuses to get Ian alone either at the Gallagher house or at his house, and he never failed to stop by the Kash and Grab at least twice a week so that whenever Kash – or his hardass and actually scary wife Linda – wasn't there, they could do it in the walk-in freezer. But even if Ian was a great lay and Mickey wasn't fucking anyone else anymore, he still had very strict rules: never do it face to face, no touching more than necessary, and no kissing, never, _ever_ any kissing. They were playing this little dance without talking about it or putting any labels on it, it was a routine, a nice routine they fell into without looking back. For Mickey, it almost felt like happiness. Until everything went to shit.

It all started when Monica came back once again. Ian ran directly to Mickey and they decided to meet at the dugouts, Ian missing work for the day. The redhead was all shaky and angry, and fucked Mickey good and hard to forget the sudden arrival of his shit mother. They didn't talk, they just let off steam physically. Mickey realized he also needed it, as he always did when his father was around and not in prison. So they fucked, and ran after each other around the baseball field like the stupid teenagers they still were, somewhere deep down, in spite of all the things they had to deal with in their lives.

It was only a couple of days later that Mickey found out what was truly going on with the redhead. Ian had texted him, requesting to meet in their spot, and he arrived with a grim expression on his face. He sat next to Mickey, and Mickey knew it was – unfortunately – time for words instead of mindless sex. He took a long drag of his cigarette, possibly to find some courage as talking wasn't really his thing, and then, when he opened his mouth, he tried to be as gentle as possible.

“What's going on?”

Ian looked up, staring at Mickey as if he wasn’t really there, with something in his eyes that Mickey had never seen before.

“Frank isn't my real father.” Ian said slowly.

“That a bad thing?” Mickey snorted. Shit, he wished Terry wasn’t his real father, he would throw a fucking party.

“I don't know...” Ian mumbled, seemingly less amused than Mickey.

The redhead looked almost confused, and Mickey tried to make him smile again, mostly because he wasn’t sure how to cope otherwise, but also because he always loved to see Ian’s smile.

“Isn't Frank a piece of shit father?” he offered.

“He is.” Ian sighed. “And I don't care about him, it's just... It's just weird to think that I'm not fully related to the others... I'm less of a brother to Lip than Carl or Liam. And Fiona... Fiona has four full siblings and... a bastard...”

Mickey released a breath. He hadn’t thought about it that way, and it pained him that Ian was only seeing himself as a liability and not as the teenage boy that was adored by his siblings. Mickey could only wish he was as loved as Ian was in his family.

“Hey.” he murmured, putting a hand on the redhead's shoulder. “I'm sure they don't care about blood. You all grew up like a pack of wolves, fighting and protecting each other, nothing will change that. That your shitty mother slept with some random dude to conceive you...”

“My uncle.” Ian interrupted.

“What?”

“My real father is one of Frank's brothers.” he explained.

“See? You even stay in the family!” Mickey laughed (things weren’t so bad after all). “So what if you're their half-brother half-cousin? Ain't so bad! Gallaghers are all about family right? You're not a bastard, you're just the lucky one who didn't get Frank's drunken genes!”

“Yeah,” Ian huffed. “I just get Monica's crazy genes...”

“Fuck that!” Mickey exclaimed, opening a can of beer and sipping some before handing it to the other boy. “Parents are always shit anyway...”

Ian looked at him with that 'I'm gonna ask about Terry now' look, so Mickey abruptly stood up.

“Come on! Let's fuck it out of your brain!”

At least that finally made Ian smiled that bright, beautiful smile and he pulled his shirt off in seconds.

******

After having opened up to Mickey about his DNA, Ian felt better than before. He eventually told Mandy and she said something quite similar to her brother – not that Ian would ever tell her that, he didn’t exactly want to be murdered by both Milkovich siblings for different yet very similar reasons. Then, Lip got the insane idea of making Ian meet his ' _real dad_ ' and that just ended up being an all-too-uncomfortable afternoon with Ian trying to make his brother understand he had no interest in meeting the guy Monica had once fucked sixteen years ago. They got into an argument, and the very same night Fiona decided to move out of the family house after Monica and her rude unpleasant girlfriend declared they wanted to stay for now and probably take Liam away later. When Ian got to work the next morning, he was in a foul mood and told Kash to “fuck off” after he made another advance on him. He had never said no to him in such crude words and was most of the time just avoiding him. Thankfully, Kash hadn’t had time to reply or to fire Ian for the words as Linda appeared in the store, and then only left to be replaced by Mickey strutting in. As he did every time he spotted a Milkovich walking past his windows, Kash disappeared before Mickey had even reached the door. He didn’t know if it was the cowardice of his boss, or the sight of his friend ( _boyfriend_?) but Ian smiled when Mickey stood on the other side of the counter, facing him.

“Kash here?”

“Why?” Ian smirked. “He forgot your date?”

Mickey gave him the finger.

“He left when he saw you through the window.” Ian supplied. “Who knows what he’s doing now? Fucking some guy in an alley? Fighting with his wife? Who cares...”

“You okay there Gallagher?” Mickey asked, his eyebrows frowning a little.

Ian sighed. He didn’t want to lie to Mickey, _no, he wasn’t okay, his life was going to shit_ , but he also knew why the other boy was there and he wasn’t exactly in the mood for fucking without talking.

“I'm fine.” he decided to say. “Why? You want me all rainbows and butterflies for a quick fuck in the freezer? Isn't it too gay for you?”

“Fuck you!” Mickey spat, already turning back on his heels to leave the store.

Ian sighed again. He didn’t want to drive Mickey away, he was probably the only good thing he had in his life at the moment...

“Mick, wait!”

Mickey stopped dead on his tracks, and Ian walked around the counter to go stand between him and the door.

“Wanna fuck before you leave?”

Mickey raised his eyebrows up and down playfully.

“Do I ever say no to that?”

And that was how Kash caught them fucking in the back of the store. He probably came back when he couldn’t hear Mickey anymore, thinking it was safe to return in his property but it wasway too soon. When he opened the door of the freezer and surprised them mid-action, Mickey panicked and ran away.

Ian tried to explain himself to his boss, but before he could utter the right words, Mickey was back inside the store, trying to put on his best thug persona, stealing candy and threatening Kash. It could have gone okay, an incident soon forgotten and never talked about thanks to some well-handled blackmail, but Kash, probably tired of Mickey's constant threats and Linda's constant yelling, pulled out the gun his wife had gotten him and fired a shot.


	9. Happiness is overrated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a little stint in juvie, Mickey comes back. While he was away, Ian has changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last good chapter for a while, the next two are NOT going to be fun (please refer to the tags), so enjoy it while you can…

Eight months. Mickey had taken eight months in juvie for petty theft and because Kash had overly complained about him to the police, and, as Mickey was a Milkovich, nobody had questioned the fact that the store owner had to shoot him for his own protection. Mickey was bored, out of his mind bored, juvie sucked. He also kind of missed Ian, even though he would never, _ever_ admit it. Iggy had sent him porn, regular boring straight porn, and Mickey had ended up jerking off to the only somewhat ginger guy in the magazine. His hair wasn’t even really red, just light brown, but Mickey might had been desperate. These eight months were excruciatingly long...

******

Ian really missed Mickey, and, on top of that, he was a very horny sixteen-year-old boy (like pretty much every teenager right?),but he didn't want to fuck anyone but Mickey. He was craving the soft feeling of his skin under his fingers, he was craving his smell, he was craving his tight ass, and his beautiful eyes, and his too rare laugh... He had gone to see Mickey once, a week after the boy had landed in juvie, but he had been quickly shut down and asked not to come back, so he had dived head first into working out, to release his energy and tension (mostly sexual), he ran and trained all the time.Soon enough, he could do a hundred push-ups at a time, run a six minute-mile and hita target at two hundreds yards with a M16. He had grown up a couple of inches, took on muscle and cut his hair for ROTC, he wasn't some awkward lanky teenager anymore, he was tall and fit, he looked more and more like a soldier every day, and he enjoyed it.

******

Mickey hadn’t had a lot of visits during his eight months behind bars, his sister had visited a couple of times, his cousin Sandy too, and Iggy and Colin once. Ian had been the first one to come though, but Mickey had asked him not to come back, he couldn’t stand the way the redhead was looking at him, with his puppy dog eyes, it was like the word ‘fag’ was written all over his face, Mickey could not allow it. Plus, he was sure the redhead had better things to do outside, between school, work, his family and his ROTC retreats, he was always busy, he didn’t need to make the trip every weekend all the way uptown to see Mickey. All that to say Mickey hadn’t expected him to be there when he got out. Mandy was there too, they both greeted him with big smiles and Mickey’s brain short-circuited when his eyes landed on Ian. _He looks hot_ were the first words that came his mind and repeated on a loop and he tried to save face in front of his sister and maintain a normal conversation. They barely exchanged a few words, Mandy doing most of the talking, and the three of them returned to their crappy neighborhood safely.

Mickey had to stop by his house for a couple of hours, just to show his brothers and father that he was back and hadn’t become anyone’s bitch. They exchanged a few beers and a joint – the 'Welcome back' parties at the Milkovich house weren't what they used to be anymore, they became just as regular as every Friday night – and Mickey finally managed to escape. He met Ian under the L (the redhead had left Mandy with one of her fuck buddies) and together they made their way to the dugouts of the old baseball field. Except for Ian’s exceptional growth, it wasn’t like any time had passed, they fell into old, comfortable habits pretty quickly and Mickey couldn’t help but to be relieved for it.

Ian talked about math, about summer school and about his plans to getinto West Point. He talked about Lip who didn't want him to apply at first but who now helped him, about his new ROTC officer who was such a great role model, and about becoming an officer. Mickey listened, taking it all in and enjoying way more than he should all the useless pieces of information Ian gave him. He also tried not to let this strange feeling he had when Ian talked about going away take over his whole mind (he would deal with that when the time came). Finally, they were there in front of their wooden bench, in their safe space.

“So, you made a lot of friends on the inside?” Ian asked.

Mickey looked at him with his playful smirk.

“You wanna chitchat more or you wanna get on me?”

Ian sighed. Of course he wanted to _get on_ Mickey, he was still craving him with all of his might even though they were only inches apart, but that was part of the problem, wasn't it? He was craving him entirely, not just the ass to fuck and the dick to suck. He wanted the chitchat too, and the private jokes, and the kisses, and eventually the holding hands crap. So he decided not to _get on_ Mickey.

“Fuck you, Mick.” he spat. “If I asked, it's because I actually want an answer. And I'm sorry if it didn't seem like it because I didn't come to visit you, but you ask me not to, I actually missed you these past few months!”

It was Mickey’s turn to sigh. Fuck, that redhead would be the death of him. Ian was pouting now, or at least it looked like he was, and Mickey needed only a few seconds to think it over before he took a step closer and grabbed the back of Ian's head, bringing their foreheads together. They were almost breathing in each other’s mouth and it would have been so easy to actually go for a kiss, but neither of them did it. They closed their eyes for a moment, enjoying this rare moment of intimacy.

“I missed you too.” Mickey murmured. _And I'll fucking prove it._

He took a step back, letting go of Ian's head to fumble with his belt. He opened the redhead's fly and tugged on his pants and boxers before getting down to his knees. He had never given a blowjob before and he felt a little self-conscious facing Ian's dick, but it didn't last more than three seconds before he decided to just go for it.

Ian gasped. _Holy fucking shit._ He had had trouble breathing when Mickey had pulled their faces so close together and said those words, but now it was just too much. Mickey's mouth was wrapped around his dick, licking and sucking sloppily. It was awkward and messy, but it was great. To be honest, Ian didn't have any other blowjob experience to compare this one too, but he just knew it wasn't always that good. He let his hands reach Mickey's hair and tried not to fuck his mouth with his hips, but it was so damn difficult. When he couldn’t help himself, Mickey pulled his mouth off for a second, and Ian’s voice came out all raspy and breathy.

“Don't stop...”

Mickey smiled as he looked up. Blue eyes locked with green eyes, and he took Ian in again, not breaking eye contact. After that, it was only seconds before Ian came and Mickey tried to swallow it as best as he could. It was messy and clumsy, but neither of them had never felt anything so intense before.

******

Summer was coming to an end, they would all have to go back to school soon, and Ian was sitting on the stairs in the back of the Gallagher house, watching Debbie and her day-care kids play in the pool, enjoying the last free days they had all together, trying not to think about what it would mean for him and Mickey when Ian would have school on top of everything else in his schedule, and therefore less time to hang out. Lip came to sit next to him and handed him a joint, Ian took a drag of it, and handed it back to his brother.

“You're not fucking Mandy, are you?” Lip asked.

“Of course I’m not fucking Mandy.” Ian rolled his eyes. “Why everybody keeps asking me that?”

“Who else asked you?”

“Nobody.”

Ian leaned back, his elbows resting on the step above him. Maybe he had said a little too much this time, his “relationship” with Mickey was still on the down low after all, so nobody else than his siblings was really supposed to question his couple with Mandy or even his sexuality, but Lip quickly brushed past it, he seemed to have other matters in mind.

“Can I? Fuck her?”

“Since when do you ask permission to fuck a girl?” Ian snickered.

“I don't know, dude!” Lip exclaimed. “She's like your girlfriend or something!”

“My best friend.” Ian corrected. “And yes, you can fuck her, _if_ she wants to fuck you. But if you mess with her, if you hurt her in any way, I will fuck you up so bad you won't recognize yourself in the mirror!”

“Okay I won't hurt her!” Lip half promised, half laughed. “Jesus Ian, if I wanted to hear that kind of stuff, I would have asked Mickey...”

Ian smiled slightly. Yes, maybe he was starting to sound a little like his... _boyfriend?_ God forbid if Mickey ever heard him use that word!

“How did he take it by the way?” Lip continued. “Mickey? When you started 'dating' his sister?”

“Okay I guess.” Ian shrugged. “But I know how to take him.”

Ian closed his eyes, enjoying the sun on his face, and smiling internally at his own stupid pun.

******

It turned out that Ian didn’t have to worry so much after all, even after school started again, him and Mickey remained some kind of “a thing”, a thing only them knew about. They met as often as they could, managing with each other's schedules. They talked more and more and randomly hung out without it getting sexual.They also started to fuck in other places than just the dugouts or the freezer at the Kash and Grab. One night, Ian suggested the van in the backyard of his house. Carl used to sleep in it, but it was now too cold outside so he was back in the crowded bedroom. Mickey was slightly uncomfortable with all these posters of Megan Fox (it reminded him too much of his bedroom and a time he was trying to forget) but Ian helped him take his mind off the actress fast enough. Another night, when they were walking together, they found an abandoned building and decided to make it their own. They brought back an old mattress to fuck on, and random stuff to create an obstacle course for Ian to train while Mickey watched him and smoked. Some other times, very rare times, they fucked in each other's bed, when one of their houses was empty and sure to remain this way for at least a couple of hours. They laughed, they drank together, they exchanged cigarettes. In other words, they were sort of happy.

******

[Mick 5.01pm] _hou_ _se_ _'s empty for the night_

[Ian 5.10pm] _I'll be right there._

******

It was so much, too much. Mickey suspected sex could be great, and Ian had already made him see stars – as gay as that sounded – but he didn't think it could be THAT great. It was just... so much, too much. “Making love” is what they called it right? That was it, that was just that.

It was the first time they did it face to face. Mickey wasn't sure how it happened, but now Ian's face was inches away from his. Foreheads touching, breaths melting into one, eyes closed. Suddenly, Mickey felt Ian's lips on his and, for once, he didn't care, he didn't fucking care. He even liked it, craved it, wanted more. So he kissed back, deepening it so that their tongues were dancing together. Mickey's right hand left Ian's shoulder to go grab the back of his head, playing with his hair. Everything was so much and so perfect at once, but soon, way too soon, Ian pulled out to breathe. And that's when the words came out of his mouth, no higher than a whisper, it was like they had escaped him, like he had tried to control them but the kiss had set them free.

“I love you.”

Mickey's eyes shot wide open and were immediately met by green eyes. “I love you too”, he wanted to answer, he really did, but he couldn't. What was happening right then and there couldn't be happening, not with Terry this close. Suddenly, Mickey felt crowded, Ian was touching him too much. He needed to put some distance between them, so he grabbed Ian’s torso and he flipped them over, making them switch position – the redhead was too far gone to resist. Mickey started riding him, putting a hand on Ian's chest to keep the distance between them. Ian did his best to thrust up, his fingers digging into Mickey's hips with one hand, the other one running up and down Mickey's dick. The new position wasn't as perfect as the previous one, but it hit his prostate just fine, and, with a couple more thrusts, Mickey was done, coming into Ian's hand and on his belly. Ian was quick to follow, too quick to follow, it was almost like they came together and this was too much for Mickey, way too much. He pulled out as fast as he could and started to put his clothes on, Ian still lying in bed, watching him closely.

“What are you doing? I thought the house was empty for the night?”

Mickey didn't have a good answer. He just wanted to run away.

“I need a drink.” he mumbled, and reached for the door knob, before stopping dead on his tracks.

Noises were coming from the front door, and not good noises. He turned to look at Ian, lying naked on his bed. The most beautiful and scary picture all at once.

“Put your fucking clothes on.”

The redhead must have heard Mickey's panic in his low voice because he did as he was told, quickly and without arguing. Mickey started to slowly open the door.

“Stay here.” he ordered. “Don't fucking move. And find a place to hide if necessary.”

Ian nodded, and Mickey opened the door wider, walking into the hallway. When he closed his bedroom door behind himself, he saw Terry stumble into the living room, drunk off his ass, with the trashiest woman possible at his arm – probably a hooker.

“I thought you were out for the night.” Mickey tried to say casually, doing his best not to look at the woman taking her clothes off.

“Well this is my fucking house, isn’t it? I'm here if I want to be here!” Terry more or less yelled. “And right now I want to fuck that pussy.”

The ' _couple_ _'_ fell down on the couch, already moaning. It was gross. Mickey turned on his heels to go back to his room. Ian, who was just sitting on the bed (thankfully fully dressed), looked up at Mickey when he heard him return.

“What's going on?” he asked, no higher than a whisper.

Mickey bit his lower lip, pacing, trying hard not to let himself go into total freak out mode.

“Just... shut the fuck up!”

He didn't want to be mean, but really it was the only thing he could have said right now. Ian nodded silently, and looked down at the floor. Mickey sighed and went to sit on the bed next to the redhead. He reached for a cigarette in the pack randomly thrown around on the floor, lit it, took a drag, and handed it to Ian. They smoked in silence, waiting for the danger to disappear, Ian stealing glances at Mickey, and Mickey avoiding his eyes. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Mickey heard the familiar sound of Terry snoring, and, indeed, when he went to open his bedroom door to sneak a peek into the living room, his father was sprawled out on the couch, sound asleep. Mickey motioned for Ian to get out, and almost dragged him out of the house, closing the door to his face when he felt that the redhead was about to say something.

_Fuck._


	10. I only miss him when I'm breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian hasn't talked to Mickey in a while, he misses him and he’s afraid he messed everything up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is half the size of the others, but it's pretty intense so... I didn't want to over do it...

Ian knew he had freaked Mickey out, he knew he shouldn't have said those words, he shouldn’t have said he loved him, but it had just escaped him in the heat of the moment. _Fuck._ He kicked the not-so-white fence in front of the Gallagher house and flicked his cigarette butt away.

“What's wrong with you?” Debbie's voice asked.

Ian turned around to see his two sisters walking toward him, Fiona’s arms full of grocery bags and Debbie pushing Liam’s stroller.

“Nothing.” he answered while opening the gate.

“Good” Fiona said. “So you can help me with those.”

She put her two bags into Ian's arms and unbuckled Liam from the stroller so that he could walk the few steps to the house while she carried the stroller inside. Ian followed Debbie to the kitchen and helped her put the food away.

“You know, if somebody messed with you I could help you put them down.” she declared. “Mandy taught me a few stuff.”

Ian chuckled when Debbie took out her new weapon, a small retractable baton he wasn’t surprised Mandy carried on her person or gave to his baby sister.

“Thanks Debs.” he said with a smile. “But I don't think that would be necessary, plus ROTC you know? I think I can defend myself.”

Debbie nodded approvingly, putting her baton back in her pocket.

“Debs, you should give that thing back to Mandy.” Fiona demanded, walking in the kitchen just in time to see the weapon.

“But she gave it to me so I can keep the pervs away from me!”

“It's not like she gave her a 22, Fiona.” Ian tried to argue. “This isn't more dangerous than the baseball bat.”

Fiona sighed, and Ian knew his big sister agreed with him: in this neighborhood, nobody would ever be protected enough.

******

It had been days now, days since Ian had last seen Mickey. He had called him, texted him, no answer. He had even been to the dugouts, but Mickey was obviously avoiding him. After turning around for about two hours in his tiny bed, debating whether or not he should go directly to his house, Ian had decided he would try it, he needed to talk to his... _whatever the hell_ Mickey was to him. He missed him, and they needed to clear the air about what had been said – and not said back. He almost ran all the way to the Milkovich house, but slowed his pace when he reached the end of the street. Mandy and Iggy were already on the front lawn, bickering and apparently about to get in the car.

“Hey Mands!” Ian called.

Mandy turned to see him, and she smiled as he appeared.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Milwaukee.” she simply said as if Ian was supposed to know why, and it made him raise his eyebrows in surprise – a thing he had definitely picked up from Mickey.

“Why?”

“Mandy, let's go!” Iggy called from the driver seat.

“I'll tell you when I get back!” Mandy shouted while getting in the car.

“Wait!” Ian exclaimed, gripping the door before Mandy closed it. “Have you seen Mickey around?”

Mandy shook her head.

“Haven't seen him in a few days!”

She pulled a little harder and Ian released the door. Half a minute later and the car was gone.

******

Days passed. Ian was back at the dugouts almost every night, hoping that Mickey would show up. He didn't show up, he never did, and, after another week of acting like a desperate puppy kicked to the curb, Ian started to give up. Mickey would come back to him when he would, it was always that way between them, everything was done on Mickey’s timeline. Mickey would freak out and disappear, before finally coming back to Ian when he was ready, whether it took weeks, months or even years...

And then it happened: Terry Milkovich was arrested and put away behind bars for good, he would never get out. Ian didn’t learn about it from Mandy or Mickey though, both Milkovich siblings had suddenly disappeared out of his life, he hadn’t even found out what Mandy and Iggy were doing in Milwaukee – although he did suspect something not so legal. He learned about it from Kev, who showed up with V one night in the Gallagher kitchen after his shift at the Alibi. He had heard Terry had been arrested from the patrons at the bar.

“Terry Milkovich is always arrested.” Lip said plainly, speaking out loud what everybody already knew. “It doesn’t mean shit.”

He wasn't wrong, Ian thought, nodding along as he helped his brother set the table.

“Yeah but this time he got life!” Kev insisted.

“How did the cops finally manage to do that?” V questioned.

She was pouring herself a glass of boxed wine after handing one to Fiona, as per their Friday night ritual.

“He beat one of his kids to death or something...”Kev shrugged as he grabbed a chicken wing from the bucket they had purchased.

Ian's head shot up. From the corner of his eyes, he caught Lip looking at him with worry in his eyes.

“Which kid?” Ian managed to ask, his mouth dry and the words barely coming out.

“I don't know...” Kev shrugged again. “One of his sons, or one of his daughters, the story wasn’t really clear...”

“Mandy?” It was Lip’s turn to ask. “He has only one daughter!”

Ian was panicking now, he felt his breath shorten and his knees weaken. He hadn't seen Mandy since she left for Milwaukee, and Mickey had disappeared before that, if either of them… He couldn’t even picture it… He heard Lip curse at Kev, and a hand on his shoulder, probably Fiona’s, he only looked up when Kev finally understood his panic.

“Fuck!” the giant man exclaimed. “She's your girlfriend, right?”

“More like my best friend, and Lip's fuck buddy.” Ian muttered, nor caring if anybody heard him.

“Fuck, I'm sorry.” Kev said gently. “Don't worry, I'm pretty sure it was a guy. Must have been one of his sons...”

Everybody started to agree, relieved at the idea that Mandy was safe, but Ian's panic didn't go away. His mind was stuck on Mickey and he was scared as shit. While his family tried to guess what could have happened, Ian only had one reason in mind why Terry would want to hurt Mickey. He hurried out of his house, running out through the kitchen door, not caring what anybody would think, and he ran, he ran all the way to the Milkovich house, his heart pounding in his chest. _Fuck. Mickey. Mickey. Mickey._

The scariest house in the neighborhood seemed as empty and desolated as usual. Ian knocked on the door. Once. Twice. Nobody answered. He pushed the door open, it wasn’t locked but that didn’t mean anything, it was never locked.

“Mandy?” he asked.

Silence.

“Mickey?” he tried again.

Silence.

Ian moved slowly into the living room, and the kitchen, half afraid he would step on a corpse, and the other half afraid he would be caught and threatened by an unwelcoming Milkovich. He sneaked a peek into the other rooms of the house. Nobody was there. Just deadly silence. With his breath unsteady, he went into Mandy's bedroom. The drawers of her dresser were wide open and empty, it looked like she had left in a hurry. Mickey's room was in the same state, but not the other ones, only Mandy and Mickey's stuff were gone. And so were they…


	11. How to get away with murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened in the Milkovich house...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter is INTENSE and awful in many ways. Please read the tags (all the tags), there will be violence, and homophobia, and Terry being his most horrible self (and possibly murder as the title of the chapter indicates).

_**One week earlier...** _

One. The sun shining through the blinds. Two. His head pounding. Three. The ache in his heart.

Mickey slowly reached a seated position on his bed. Everything hurt, everything had gone to shit. His right hand searched for the latest beer bottle he had left on his nightstand. He found it, grabbed it, and brought it to his lips. It was empty and he was thirsty. As a replacement, he went for the pack of cigarettes under his pillow. Also empty. Fuck this shit and fuck the world, being out of smokes and out of alcohol was forcing him to leave the safe sanctuary of his bedroom, the place he had managed not to leave in several days. He dragged himself out of his bed and all the way to the door of his bedroom, opening it carefully and listening in the hallway, hoping with all his might that Mandy hadn’t invited her ginger best friend over. He wasn’t ready to see him and yes, maybe he was avoiding him, and his texts and calls, but he had a good reason right? Right? Ian had gotten too attached, Mickey had gotten too attached, and Terry was still there, lurking in the shadows. This whole... _thing_ was bound to end at some point and it was better now with everybody safe and sound, than a couple of months later with one of them – if not both – six feet under because of Terry.

He waited for a few seconds… The Milkovich house was quiet and empty, so maybe Mandy hadn’t invited Ian over. Good. Mickey grabbed a new pack of beer from the fridge (which was mostly filled with alcoholic beverages anyway) and was about to go back to his bedroom when he heard voices coming from Mandy's room. The door was halfway open so it meant she wasn't with some fuck buddy but with a friend. Mickey approached discreetly. Even if it was Ian, he needed to at least hear his voice, as creepy as that sounded. Mandy was chatty. Once she finally shut up, somebody answered her. To Mickey’s great disappointment though, he didn't recognize the voice, it wasn’t Ian. Normally, he would have let it slide and gone back into his cave, but today he was curious for some reason. He pushed the door open.

“Hey.”

“Hey Mickey!” Mandy exclaimed, looking abnormally happy to see him. “I haven't seen you in over a week! I was about to go check if you weren't dead in your bed.”

Mickey flipped her off before noticing the little girl sitting next to his sister.

“Who the fuck is this?”

Mandy smiled, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder.

“This is Molly, from Milwaukee. Remember? Our half-sister?”

Mickey nodded. Yes, it did ring a bell, there were Milkoviches scattered all over the place after all, you never knew where and when you might run into one.

“My mom died.” Molly explained.

“Sorry about that.” Mickey said before turning on his heels to leave the room. _Welcome to hell little sis._

Just as he was about to go back to his own bedroom, he heard someone knocking loudly on the front door, and because Mandy didn't seem to be moving from her spot on her bed, Mickey sighed loudly to let her know how he truly felt and then he dragged himself to the entrance of the house, half-praying it wasn't Ian, half-hoping it was him. Wish half-granted because he wasn’t met with green eyes but with deep gray ones circled by heavy make-up and a sad expression buried not so deep down.

“If you're looking for Terry, or one of the Milkovich sons, they ain't here.” he spat.

The girl – who Mickey had, by now, guessed she was a hooker – smiled.

“You not a Milkovich son?” she asked with a strong accent.

“Not interested.” Mickey snorted.

He made a move to close the door in her face, but she stopped him with her left hand lying flat on the worn-out wood. Mickey shrugged. He didn’t give a shit and only wanted to find his bed again, he didn't care at all if the girl was there to stay or to rob them – not that they had anything to rob anyway. Hell, she could even be there to burn the house down, he wouldn't give a damn.

“When Terry is back?” she called after him.

Mickey made a vague hand gesture.

“The fuck if I know.”

******

When he came out of his bedroom again a few hours later, his stomach asking for solid food, the hooker was still sitting on the couch, talking energetically with Mandy. Mickey made his way to the kitchen where he found some leftover pizza, probably cold for a couple of days already. He ate it standing up, leaning against the counter, looking at the two girls on the couch without really seeing them. His thoughts drifted to a certain redhead again, he needed to call him, or at least text. He was really missing him, and he was starting to feel bad about the way he had left things with him. He really hated himself for everything he felt, especially because most of these feelings were conflicting with one another. The voice of Terry in his head told him to stop acting like a pussy and forget about that Gallagher queer, but the little hopeful Mickey buried deep down in his heart told him to just run to him and they’ll figure shit out later. Mandy's voice dragged him away from his day-dream.

“She's knocked up.”

“What?”

Mandy, who was now leaning next to him against the kitchen counter, nodded toward the hooker on the couch.

“Svetlana. She's knocked up.”

Mickey shrugged. Why the fuck should he care about that?

“And?”

“It's Terry's.” Mandy explained.

“Or not.” he replied. “She's a fucking hooker, it could be any drunk prick in this neighborhood or the next.”

“She's a hand-whore.” Mandy patronized him. “She doesn't do the full ride.”

Mickey snorted. _Yeah, right._ Mandy elbowed him.

“I don't really know how she ended up with Terry, but she thinks he's going to take care of her and the baby.”

“That's why she's here?” Mickey laughed. “Well, she's out of luck then, ain't she?”

Mickey made a move to go back to his room when Mandy grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Come on Mick, she's nice. We gotta do something to help her!”

“How d'you figure that?”

“If she keeps the baby, we’ll be family!”

Mickey rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“Mandy...” he sighed. “Do you know how many of Terry's bastards are running the streets? We can't take them all home, we ain't a shelter!”

“Okay, be an asshole, I'll deal with her on my own!”

Mickey watched her sister walk back to the couch. Since when did Mandy care about the hookers Terry knocked up, or went all the way to Milwaukee to get some random half-sister they barely knew? God, she was getting soft. Probably spent too much time with those Gallaghers. _Speaking of..._ Terry’s voice won this battle in his head, and Mickey made his way back to his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

******

Like every night since he had dragged Ian out of his house, Mickey barely slept. He was pulled into a dreamless slumber every so often for a couple of hours when the alcohol in his system worked its magic. He was in the middle of one of these beer-induced naps when he was woken up by Mandy screaming.

“Dad stop! Please stop!”

He hadn't heard those words in this high-pitch tone in a long time. Mickey's heart was pounding, his breath getting short. _Shit._ He grabbed his blanket and was tempted for one traitorous second to hide under it until the screaming stop, like when he used to do when he was little and it was his mother he heard. _Fuck._ One day he would reflect on the multiple trauma he had lived through in his early childhood and that had shaped him into the person he had become, but at that moment he was just terrified. The need to hide was strong, but his brotherly instinct was stronger, he couldn't run now, he had to protect Mandy… Maybe Ian Gallagher had made him soft too, and maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. He got up hastily, throwing the blanket away from his body, and he made his way to Mandy's room. His brain was blank from terror, and his heart felt like it was about to jump out of his chest. When he reached his sister’s bedroom, Mickey took a moment to understand what was happening: Iggy was already there, trying to grab a hold of their father who was relentlessly punching someone on the bed, but Mandy wasn’t the target, she was curled up at the foot of her bed, holding her face with her hands, crying and hiding the bruises that had already started to show on her pale skin.

“Come on dad, stop!” Iggy panted, doing his best to tear the man away.

“No son of mine will be a fucking pussy! Fucking faggot!” Terry yelled while he kept punching the child on the bed.

Mickey's heart skipped a beat. _What the fuck? What was going on?_ It was the moment Iggy chose to see his brother just standing there.

“Come on Mick, do something!” he screamed. “Help me!”

Mickey wasn't thinking anymore. He still wasn't sure what exactly was going on, but it didn't matter. He jumped on his father's back and grabbed his neck. He could still hear his words, raw and harsh.

“Think it's okay to dress like a girl?” Terry kept shouting. “I'm gonna teach you!”

The punching continued for way too long, Mickey trying to strangle his persistent and fucking strong asshole of a father, Iggy trying to hold his arms to keep him from hurting the small body on the bed, and Mandy crying in her corner. Mandy wasn't the type to cry, she was a Milkovich, she was a warrior, but Mickey could understand her sudden weakness, he himself wanted to just go back to hiding in his bed until he woke up from this nightmare, but he couldn't, it wasn't a dream, it was real. This really was happening, Terry was really going after his youngest-known child because said-child was wearing the wrong type of clothing – according to the patriarch.

Finally, the two Milkovich boys managed to overcome their father. When they knocked him unconscious to the ground, everything went silent. Mandy was rocking back and forth, her arms around her legs, like she used to do sometimes when she was a little girl. The sheets on the bed had turned an ugly scarlet color. Mickey couldn't look. He knew, but he couldn't look directly at the scene. He caught Iggy's eyes before he decided to break the silence.

“We need to call the police.” he said, his voice quiet and broken.

“What happened to 'Milkoviches don't rat on family'?” Iggy asked.

“This rule doesn't apply when one of us is fucking dead!” Mickey's throat tightened when he said the words, and he heard Mandy squeal.

“Okay” Iggy conceded. “But you need to leave, you don't want to be here when he wakes up.”

He made a vague hand gesture toward Terry's body lying at his feet, and Mickey was tempted to spit on him.

“What about you?”

“Come on.” Iggy shook his head. “The police will need a witness, and we all know Terry won't hurt me as much as he would hurt the both of you.”

Iggy had a knowing look in his eyes while saying that, and Mickey realized that his brother either knew more than he let on, or he just agreed that Mickey had been more of a target his entire life than any of his brothers.

“Plus, I can take a beating.” Iggy added half jokingly.

Mickey hesitated, letting his eyes travel between his suddenly very confident brother and his sister still curled up on the ground who was avoiding looking directly at the bed. He didn't want to let Iggy alone to deal with Terry, but he also knew his brother was right, Terry wasn't as harsh on him as he was on Mandy and Mickey. Plus, their father would probably be thrown in jail sooner rather than later – and for a long time.

“Fuck, Iggy!” Mickey finally let out.

He almost hugged him, but stopped at the last second, choosing to kneel near Mandy instead. He put a hand on her shoulder.

“Come on Mands, we need to go.”

She raised her big blue eyes toward him, looking even more like a little child. Mickey tightened his hold on her, and helped her stand up.

“I'm coming too.”

Mickey turned around. Svetlana was looking at them darkly, standing steadily in the door frame, a hand on her belly.

“I do not want this man near my baby.”

Mickey sighed. _Shit._ He looked at Mandy, who was holding his shirt in a tight grip. _Oh fuck it!_

“Okay, okay. Let's get a move on then!”

An hour later, they were driving away from Chicago. Mandy was leaning in a fetal position against the window in the back seat of the car. Svetlana was stealing glances at her when she wasn't side-eyeing Mickey, who was driving silently. He took one last look at the city in the rearview mirror and his thoughts drifted to Ian. He should have said goodbye. He was walking away from him for good, forever, and the last time he had seen him he had thrown him unceremoniously out of his house. He shook his head, redirecting his eyes on the road. He needed to stop thinking about that, his little thing with Ian was bound to end at one point anyway, now was as good as any other time, Ian would get into West Point, he would be an officer and he would make something of himself, forgetting Mickey pretty quickly. He knew all of that, but he couldn't stop the tears from falling. He pulled the car to a stop on the side of the road and got out as fast as he could. He closed the door violently, and kicked the front wheel. Sand flied around. He brought the heels of his hands on his eyes, trying to stop himself from crying like a little bitch. _FUCK!!!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not fret, my faithful readers, this is not the end. A part 2 is coming and can already be found and subscribed to somewhere down there I believe ⬇️

**Author's Note:**

> Leave kudos and/or comments if you wish. And you can also come talk and share with me on my [tumblr](http://ilostmylifeonline.tumblr.com/), it's always appreciated :)


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